Reflection
by Violet Dreams13
Summary: After the war Draco has been left to deal with abuse from his father, the loathing of his peers, and the self-hate boiling inside of him. Who's left to save him, but our favourite boy wonder?
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: If I actually owned Harry Potter or any of its characters and JK didn't, I'd be writing on a better computer by now...

**A/N: Ok, my first fanfic, let's see how it goes! Um, this chapter isn't very great and is fairly short, but I promise it'll get better throughout. Please review, I need to know what to improve!**

"-and that is why I came here, I'd like you all to think of me as a friend, someone you can talk to" the woman smiled at the class. Miss. Thompson, under a new Ministry experiment, had come into the school to talk about abuse, self harm and home issues that might bother the students of Hogwarts. She had wavy red hair and bright blue eyes that looked kind and friendly.

"I'll be around for the next few months, and anyone's welcome to stop by and visit for a little chat"

Draco glared at the floor, feeling himself bristle with every word she said. What would she know about all this? She looked like her life had been perfectly fine, from being daddy's little girl to the ministry's top girl. And her voice! No-one with a voice that sounded so...honey like, could have ever felt upset.

Grace Thompson watched the class carefully, trying to pick out who she thought would come to her, and who she would need to go to. The nervous looking boy, Neville, the stressed intelligent one, Hermione, the messy haired boy Harry...she was quite sure she'd be talking to them all over the next few months. And the blonde one. White-blonde hair and piercing grey eyes, had he even said his name? Grace watched the boy, it was the little things that others might not notice that made her so good at her job, things that were clear signs that something was wrong. He glared at the floor, seeming to generate waves of hate, but Grace could see that, reflected in his eyes, was a very sad, broken soul. Despite the heat, the boy, unlike his classmates, wore long sleeves, going right up to the bottom of his hand. And, though it was hardly noticeable, he rocked back and forwards, ever so slightly, biting his bottom lip as if to stop himself from screaming. It took all her strength to stop herself from giving the boy, who looked so lonely, a cuddle. He should not be suffering in silence.

"That was dull"

"Complete waste of time"

"Oh Miss, I'm going to kill myself, can we talk?"

The group of Slytherins sniggered and walked off, not noticing that their prince was not among them, nor that he had not commented on Miss. Thompson. Instead, Draco was walking on his own, his eyes fixed on the floor, lost in his thoughts, not even bothering to snap at the fourth year who banged into him, but merely continued walking, ignoring the terrified apology coming from the small girl.

"Abuse, self-harm, and home issues"

The words echoed in his head as he stepped into his private room in the Slytherin dungeons, deciding to skip dinner

"Abuse, self-harm, and home issues"


	2. Chapter 2

**Disclaimer: I know, I know...JK owns them and I don't, I own a crappy pc**

**A/N I survive on reviews, and I'm currently starving! This chapter is still quite short, but hey, it's got some drama in it with out most loved Slytherin Prince! *Edit* I've been reading back over chapters, and have edited this one slightly  
**

Draco was good at pretending to be invisible, he often played a lone game of it when his parents were too busy for him, or paying attention to guests, or had simply decided they didn't want a son that day. If he played the game, he could pretend that he was choosing not to be noticed, it was he who chose when his parents acknowledged him and when they didn't. Sometimes though, his game didn't work, and his father still saw him. and still criticized him and gave him a disgusted look, and hurt him until Draco's throat was raw from screaming. Sometimes after Draco's father hurt him, Draco would in turn hurt himself, locked in his room, away from the judging eyes of his parents, and pretend it wasn't his choice to hurt himself, that he had to do it. But Draco knew this to be a lie, and lying was wrong, his father had made sure he knew that...

_Lucius looked at his son, giving him an icy glare _

_"Sit" he commanded, and Draco did as he was told, immediately dropping into a hard back chair, sitting bolt upright as he had been taught to _

_"I beat the mudblood's grades this year father, and my teachers all say I'm top of the class, except of course Care Of Magical Creatures, but that half-giant can hardly be called a teacher can he?" Draco said as he handed his father his grades "And I beat Potter at Quidditch, I've been practicing a lot more" Draco continued, and he kept on going, all the while watching his father as he looked over Draco's report. Lucius sighed, pulled out his wand, and tapped the paper. Draco's heart missed a beat. _

_"Changing your grades Draco? How very childish" his father scolded, looking over Draco's real results, and Draco glanced at the door, though he knew it was pointless to try and run. _

_"Not only did you loose to Potter and the mudblood, you lied to me" Lucius rose elegantly, running his wand through his fingers "I do not tolerate lying Draco. Stand" _

_Draco did not shake as he stood, though he knew he would start doing so soon. He tensed, waiting, watching his father stride towards him, his hand rising menacingly... _

Draco woke with a start, biting his lip to stop himself crying. He did not cry, he was a Malfoy, the Slytherin Prince, and an ex-death eater...Draco shivered at the thought. He climbed out of bed quickly, tripping on a pile of books by his bed and hitting the floor with a dull thud. Draco lay on the floor and tensed, waiting for the blow, for the

"What have I told you about keeping things clean you clumsy boy?"

But it never came, his father wasn't here and he never would be. Hogwarts was a safe place, and it didn't matter that he made noise, being head boy, he had a private room. He stood and went into the bathroom, having a long shower, allowing the hot water to heat so much it burned him, leaving angry red marks on his body after he stepped out. Draco was creative when it came to self-harm. He looked over his body in the mirror. Dark circles hung under his eyes, and his ribs showed easily, he looked almost skeleton like. He had never been starved, the manor was full of house elves eager to feed the growing boy, and he knew his way to the Hogwarts kitchens easily enough, but Draco didn't eat much, he couldn't. How could a creature who had disappointed his parents so severely, who had brought shame onto the name Malfoy possibly deserve food? Draco gave himself one last look over, his eyes lingering on the largest of the burns which was on his left shoulder, the large red patch disturbing the sea of white that was Draco's skin. Draco sighed, it wasn't his fault he did it, it was his father's. But then, it was his fault his father hated him wasn't it? What else could it be? Everyone always told him how smart his father was, a smart man surely wouldn't hate his own son for no reason would he? No, it was definitely Draco's fault.


	3. Chapter 3

**Disclaimer: If I owned them or was making any money, I'd probably be in Rome by now, damn you JK**

**A/N Sorry it's been a while, I was away in France and kinda forgot to say, my bad! From Saturday I'm off for another week to see my uncle, so whether I'll update or not before then is unknown, sorry!  
**

Grace smiled at the girl opposite her, patting her hand

"Do you feel better now Hermione?"

"Yes, thank you Miss. Thompson" Hermione smiled and stood, giving Grace one last smile before leaving. Grace sighed, that girl had no idea how to relax. The boy before he had had no idea how to take things seriously, the boy before him had had no idea why he had come to her, and the girl before him had simply broken down crying. And it was only just lunchtime. Getting up, Grace made her way to the great hall, many students giving her bright, cheery smiles, others looking at her as if she were gum on the bottom of their shoes, and others not looking at her at all, seemingly afraid to meet her eye. She glanced round at all the tables, watching the students eat. Many girls looked at the food laid out with disgusted looks, then glanced down at their imaginary tummies. Anorexia, how Grace loathed the disease. The boys however, seemed to wolf down their food, apart from one single silver haired boy, who looked at the food, not with disgust as the girls had done, but with longing, as if he felt he wasn't allowed the food. He was the one Grace had noticed before, the one she had hoped to speak to. Just like the first time she saw him, Grace watched him carefully, taking in the fact he was shaking, though it was fairly warm. How often did the boy starve himself? Judging by his skeletal frame, Grace would have to guess quite often. Perhaps that was the cause of his shaking, a low blood sugar? Or simply fear? Perhaps a nervous twitch he had developed? She watched as the boy rose from his seat, unnoticed by his peers, and drifted out of the hall. Grace went to follow him.

Draco couldn't stop shaking. He knew he should eat something, simply to stop himself fainting, but he couldn't bring himself to eat. That Thompson woman had been watching him, he had felt her eyes on him the entire time he was in the hall. She was trying to find out about him. But Draco couldn't let her know what he did to himself, couldn't let her know what his father did to him. She wouldn't understand. What his father did to him was out of love, to keep Draco from becoming anything less of what he could be. If he slipped up, if he made a mistake, if he did anything lower than Malfoy standard, it was his father's duty to punish him, to keep him in line, less he turn out like one of the blood-traitorous Weasleys. no, it was for his own good what his father did, and Draco knew it was. She would never understand, the filthy half-blood.

"Excuse me"

Draco nearly jumped out of his skin as someone tapped him on the shoulder. He turned to see the filthy half-blood smiling at him

"Yes?" Draco's voice was quiet when he spoke, his father had never liked noise

"I couldn't help but notice you didn't eat anything in the hall"

Draco gave her his best icy glare

"I'm not hungry"

"You're shaking" she touched his arm, brushing a fresh scar, making Draco wince

"It's cold" he pulled his arm back quickly, hoping she wouldn't comment on the fact that, for November weather, it was alarmingly hot weather

"You seem upset...angry? Is there something you'd like to talk about Mr...?"

"Malfoy, Draco Malfoy, and no, there isn't" he growled, he then turned and walked quickly back to the common room, away from the prying questions of Grace Thompson.

"Malfoy!"

Draco stopped walking towards his dorm and turned to see Marcus Flint striding towards him

"Don't forget quidditch practice tonight, and make sure you wear short sleeves, it's too hot out. Bloody weird weather"

Draco nodded dumbly, and went up to his dorm, beginning to hyperventilate as soon as he shut the door. Short sleeves? Short sleeves? Everyone would see the scars, they'd all know, teachers would talk to his parents, his father would find out...Draco's heart was beating a million miles a minute. He could try wearing long sleeves, but then Flint would only complain, and it was very probable that the heat of flying and long sleeves would cause Draco to get heat stroke. He couldn't pretend he was sick, he couldn't miss practice, he needed to practice, he needed to get better than Potter, to please his parents. A glamour charm? Draco hadn't mastered the spell very well, it may cease to work during practice, but it was the only way for now. Gathering his books for the afternoon lessons, Draco took a long deep breath, readying himself to face the rest of the day.

"Get out of the way!" Draco snarled, flying past Crabbe, banging into him and nearly knocking him off of his broom. Draco didn't care, the bloody idiot could fall if he wasn't prepared to move when told.

"Malfoy cut it out!!" Flint yelled, sick of Draco's aggressive behavior on the pitch. He was determined, and focused, which Flint liked, it was what made Draco such a good seeker. But he didn't have any discipline, he didn't know when to stop, or how to respect him teammates. He was aggressive, forward going and sometimes, unstoppable. Hell, Draco was a Slytherin, what more could you expect? For the rest of practice, Draco yelled and screamed and shoved past other players, eventually knocking the substitute chaser off of her broom, though luckily she was only a few feet from the ground. After practice, Flint held Draco back, saying

"Malfoy, you were good out there today, but I'm not putting up with you screaming at the rest of the team. I've been over this before with you, and I'd hate to loose a perfectly good seeker. But one more practice like that and you're off the team, understood?"

Draco swallowed and nodded, muttering

"Sorry, guess I got a bit carried away"

Flint clapped him on the back, and the two made their way to the changing rooms. Once in the shower, Draco sighed and looked down at his arms, you could just see the scars beginning to reappear, but he had a long sleeved top to change into now, so it didn't matter. He changed quickly, worried the other boys would notice the burns on him

"Oi Malfoy, mind if I borrow your towel? Left mine up at the castle, bit of a Hufflepuff moment y'know?" Montague chuckled, striding over completely naked. Draco couldn't help but look up, handing his towel to him, trying to ignore the beads of water than were slowly running down his chest, lower on to his stomach, lower onto his -

No. Wrong, bad, very, very bad. Draco knew he was gay, but no-one else did, no-one else could ever know. He was the Malfoy heir, the one thing he** had** to do in his life was create an heir of his own to carry on the Malfoy name, so even if he was gay, it didn't make a difference to his future, except that he may have affairs with men instead of women when he and his arranged wife had completed what they were bred for, and their child would be away at school. Draco would at least have the decency to make sure his child wasn't in the house when he had his lovers over, not like his father did, not like all the times Draco would meet some strange new woman coming out of his father's room early in the mornings. At least his mother had the decency to go somewhere else when cheating on her marriage. Draco collected his things and quickly left the showers, trying to shake the image of Montague, dripping wet and naked, from his mind, scolding himself for having such thoughts.

**I eat reviews for breakfast, and I'm currently starving! Please review, or, if you don't feel like reviewing, tell me about your day, or the fact an herd of angry giraffes is storming towards your house. Y'know, whatever you feel like  
**


	4. Chapter 4

**Boom! I'm back little ones...or big ones...or whatever the hell you people are. I thought I'd take a break from this to write my other story as I thought no-one actually _liked_ it...but it all changed when a certain shooting .star threatened to send a stampede of elephants down my street...I don't think my neighbours would appreciate that, so I wrote very very quickly....  
**

It was snowing when Draco arrived at the manor. His parents hadn't bothered to meet him at the station, but then, they hadn't bothered doing that since his second year. He wasn't surprised when he found the house empty. His mother would be abroad, she was always abroad – usually with some playboy wizard – and his father was probably trying to get his name in good light again. Since the end of the war, his father had worked non stop to get his name in the good books again. Draco was tired, and headed straight for his room, pausing only to tell a house elf to wake him at seven, when he wanted his dinner. Draco ignored the vast collection of expensive decorations covering the house. The Christmas decorations, not matter how exquisite, couldn't hide the fact that it was still the same house, with the same twisted parents, and the same unloved little boy, who bristled at any mention of the word, _Christmas_. Draco collapsed on his bed, falling asleep almost immediately, he hated this damn holiday, when he knew everyone else would be spending it with family and friends, and he would most likely wake up on Christmas day to find no mother, and, if he was unfortunate enough, a drunken father who would snarl at anyone who tried to approach him. Draco didn't get proper Christmases, but he knew they existed. He had heard his friends talking about them, read about them in books, they seemed the most magical thing in the world…but all the magic in the Malfoy family wouldn't be able to get him one.

"Draco…Draco!" his father's voice was what woke Draco, "Draco?"

There was a soft knock on the door, and his father walked in, eyeing Draco. His hair was a mess from sleeping, and his school clothes, which he hadn't bothered to change out of, were wrinkled, his tie loosely undone and his shirt un-tucked.

"I'm sorry father, I didn't hear you arrive….I-I was sleeping" he added the last part unsurely, and his father rolled his eyes

"Clearly Draco. Come, you will dine with me"

Draco stood and, catching his reflection in the mirror, muttered

"I…I suppose I should clean myself up first sir"

Lucius nodded, and turned, striding downstairs, and Draco smiled to himself. His father seemed please to see him. True, he hadn't said anything, but that didn't mean anything, his father had subtle ways of showing he was pleased, ones that Draco could now easily pick up on. Draco sorted out his hair, changed into fresh robes, and made sure none of his scars were showing, before walking downstairs and joining his father in the dining room. There was a large tree in the corner, covered in silver decorations, only one of the many that filled the manor. Draco sat down opposite him, his food already waiting for him, though he didn't dare touch it before his father started _his_ meal.

"How is school?" his father asked, slicing through his roast beef as if it were butter

"Fine sir. My grades are up, and I've been practicing Quidditch a lot harder"

"So you've finally stopped slacking have you?"

"Yes sir…I shudder at the mere _memory_ of how poor my grades once were" Draco mentally congratulated himself for practicing what to say to his father on the train home, he knew he would want to know about his grades

"Good"

The rest of the meal was spent in silence, and, although he didn't want to, Draco cleared his plate, and drank the coffee his father offered after, despite the bitter taste. He had never liked coffee, or wine, or many of the things he was expected to enjoy. Honestly, caviar? Draco had been sick when he'd eaten caviar, and his father had been anything but sympathetic. Draco thanked his father for allowing him to dine with him, and left, when given permission of course. He drifted back upstairs, finding himself in his mother's room, a lump in his throat when he saw the dust in the room. She hadn't been home for so long, even if she had dropped by to pick up some more clothes she'd have ordered for her room to be dusted. Draco sat on her bed, smiling slightly to himself as the smell of his mother's perfume wafted in the air around him. He loved his mother dearly, when he was younger she had allowed him to cry after bad dreams, ones filled with monsters and demons and horrible things. Draco would always be allowed to climb into his mother's bed after a bad dream. Sometimes he lied, and he'd pretend he'd had a nightmare, just so he could curl up in his mother's arms. But soon, at the age of nine, Draco was deprived of this luxury, being told that he wasn't a child anymore, and he couldn't go crying to his mother over a nightmare.

"But what if it's not a nightmare…what if something real scares me?" he'd asked, and his mother had looked at him oddly before saying

"Nonsense Draco, what could possibly scare a Malfoy?"

"…another Malfoy" Draco had whispered, and Narcissa's eyes had widened slightly before she struck the boy,

"Go to your room, I wont hear such things Draco!" she had shrieked, and Draco bit back his sobs as he ran from his mother. He knew now she had only done it to protect him. If Draco had received a hug rather than a hit, he'd have thought it fine to fear his father, he'd have thought of his mother as protection. Ha. His mother didn't seem to exist in his life anymore, she was a prop for the public eye and nothing more. Even if she was still here, what would it matter? She had distanced herself from Draco long ago. Draco felt tears run down his face as he pulled his knees up to his chest, wrapping his arms around them tightly, a scared boy who only wanted his mother to hold him again.


	5. Chapter 5

**A/N: *Is carried in by Lucius and held up as she reads her apologies* Ah, thank you Lucius. Now, this chapter is short, and also, I'm not sure if it's any good, seeing as how I am horribly _ill_ and feel like total crap. I've been off school for the past few days, but do not fear, I don't think I'll die, dearest mother is taking me to the doctor's tomorrow.  
*Sneezes, and Lucius hands over tissue with slight look of disgust* Right, on with the story**

**Disclaimer: I don't own them, if I did, I wouldn't be saving up every penny I had for a trip to New York  
**

Christmas was an uneventful day. Draco received many gifts from friends and ancient relatives, but he didn't want any of them. Most of them were books, and from his friends, sweets. He didn't touch the sweets, but instead ended up giving them to one of the maids who he knew had young children, saying that he had long since lost his sweet tooth. The books, he filed away on his bookcase and then sat down to begin writing his thank you letters, leaving his room only when a house elf appeared and announced that lunch was ready. He didn't want lunch, but Christmas lunch was a tradition his father wouldn't allow to be broken. Lunch was a silent affair on Draco's part, as he listened to his drunken father rant about his bitch of a wife,

"- spending all of _my_ money on her male _whores_…I've seen some of them you know! With all the money she spends on buying them holidays and gifts you'd think they'd be better looking! Never had taste that woman, that's why she could never appreciate _me_…_I'm_ tasteful…I'm a Malfoy, I'm the best she's ever had, but does she care? No. She sleeps with idiotic school boys who've no idea what they're doing!" Lucius eyes his son, who was nodding along with the conversation, making sure to say "Yes father" or "No father" every so often, so as his father wouldn't accuse him of not listening.

"You're the most useful thing I've received from her, and even _you_ annoy me to no ends. You really are disappointing Draco"

Draco felt a stab of hurt at that, he knew his father _thought_ that, but he needn't have said it out loud

"No…that's not true – " Lucius shook his head, his voice softer now, and Draco felt himself swell with happiness

"–I did get a lot of the Black family fortune from her"

…………………………………………………………

Draco spent the days leading up to Hogwarts studying, and reading the books his grandfather had sent him. The other books, he could get away with not reading, but knowing his grandfather, he would be asked questions about his books, Abraxas Malfoy never sent a gift without a reason. Whatever subject the book was on, it meant he thought Draco needed to brush up his knowledge of it, and would usually visit him a week after to check he had made use of it. If he got things wrong, Draco scolded himself, Lucius scolded Draco, and Abraxas scolded them both. Abraxas had started these tests after Draco's eighth birthday, and the first time he had failed miserably

"Draco, I do not waste money, I sent you these for a reason, and I expect you to read them and memories the text! And you Lucius, do you not have the boy study? Do you even care what happens to the Malfoy name?"

"Of course I do father"

"You clearly do not, seeing how your boy slacks in his studies and you let him get away with it!"

Lucius hadn't dared to speak back to his father, which Draco found fascinating, Abraxas Malfoy was the only person who could make Lucius act so incredibly docile…apart from the dark lord of course, but Draco had had the pleasure of not having met the Dark Lord then. His father had beaten him for failing, waiting until his father had left, and then spinning round to give his son a fierce look of rage, prowling towards the boy, looking like a wild animal stalking its prey. The boy didn't dare to raise eyes at him, he knew what was coming and he knew no-one would protect him from his father's terrible rage. He began to shake in fear as his ivory skin was darkened under his father's shadow

"_Look_ at me!" Lucius commanded icily. Swallowing audibly, Draco met his gaze and his shivers increased. Lucius slowly pulled his cane into the air, waiting for only a moment, watching Draco's fear grow before he hit him repeatedly with his snake head topped cane, yelling at Draco, though the boy only managed to catch the words

"Incompetent, disrespectful, a poor Malfoy, lazy, useless"

All of the scars faded, but the words were scratched into his mind forever, and Draco had been careful to learn his books word for word from then on. So here he sat, whilst his peers would all be in high spirits over their new gifts, he had locked himself away in his room, reading over the same chapters again and again, the fire crackling in the corner of the room, though Draco was still freezing despite the amber flames. He suddenly heard his father yelling, and the shouts of a female voice soon joined his father's.

"Mother's home I see" Draco muttered

**Ok, seeing as how I feel sooo terrible ill, I need you guys to help me feel better. You know how they say laughter is the best cure? That's total crap, _reviews _are the best cure!**


	6. Chapter 6

**A/N Rar! Scared you didn't I? Heellooo little ones, how are you? This chapter's just sort of a filler...but I'm no longer sick you'll be glad to know. Thank you to leila for such a sweet review, and I understand that .star is planning to kill Lucius...hmm. Chapter starts with flashback**

_Screaming was what brought Draco downstairs in the end, and he had stood listening for a good ten minutes before either of his parents noticed him._

"_- at least he knows how to – oh… Draco"_

_The couple looked at their son, who stood in the doorway. They had been fighting over Narcissa's new lover, and Draco had heard more than he needed to already._

"_Hello mother, I trust you are well?" he asked, not really caring, but knowing he should ask all the same_

"_Fine, fine. I was planning to stay for the week, but I can see that your father isn't ready to act like an adult"_

"_Me act like an adult? Whilst you're off with every boy just out of school, _I'm_ the one taking care of our estate, our fortune, and our son!" Lucius barked angrily, and Narcissa took a step towards him angrily_

"_Oh yes because you do _such_ a good job taking care of him don't you? That's why he's bruised so much, that's why he's got so many scars, that's why he's –"_

"_Mother!" Draco snapped, "Father has done nothing of the sort"_

_Of course he had. Draco wasn't stupid, he wasn't trying to kid himself that his father hadn't given him the marks, but as his mother started talking about them, he could see his father getting angrier and angrier, and knew to change the subject quickly_

"_The house elves have your bath waiting, and your letters are on your desk" Draco nodded, and Narcissa sighed, her eyes flickering between her son and her husband, seeming to understand the boy's anger towards her_

"_Right. Good. Thank you Draco." _

_She left quickly, and Draco turned, hurrying back to his room before his father could snap at him, or worse…_

"So how was your Christmas Draco?" Pansy Parkinson asked, sitting down next to him in the common room, snapping him out of his thoughts

"Oh, fine, how was yours?"

"_Wonderful_. Mother took me to the french alps, and we went skiing together nearly everyday. Father couldn't come, he was busy working, but he bought me the most beautiful necklace to make up for it, and I saw my grandmother and we…"

Draco tuned the girl's nattering out, not in the mood to hear her prattling on about her perfect Christmas with her perfect family in perfect bloody France. He really was sick of the word _"Christmas" _He was sick of hearing people tell him about the things they had received, he was sick of having to act as if he cared about their gifts, and he was sick of having to act as if his Christmas had been an ordinary, family Christmas, just like all of his friends had had.

"Draco? _Draco_ are you even listening?" Pansy shook his arm, annoyed that she was being tuned out

"Ugh, no!" Draco snapped before he thought about what he was saying. Pansy narrowed her eyes

"You don't have to be a total grinch you know! Some of us _enjoy_ Christmas."

"Well good for you Pansy. I have much more important issues than covering a tree in fairy lights and acting like a child!"

"Oh do you now? Tell me Draco, where was your mother this holiday? Word is that she was abroad with a young man"

"Yes, Thomas, he's my cousin, a favourite nephew of hers _actually._ Honestly Pansy, if you're suggesting for one moment that my mother isn't loyal to my father –"

"Oh don't even try Draco! I've never seen an aunt kiss her nephew so passionately, but then, you're family's never been normal has it?" Pansy sneered, watching Draco pale

"W-What do you mean, when did _you _see my mother?"

"She was in France Draco, in a chateau near ours. It's funny, you really do look like her when you're caught out, you both have the same expression of horror on your face" Pansy smiled, and then left, ignoring Draco's look of hatred as she skipped off. The last thing he heard her say was

"Penelope! You'll _never_ guess who I saw in France…"

Draco charged out of the common room, storming down the corridor, blinded by rage. Had he been watching where he was going, he might have noticed the woman walking his way, and might not have banged into her and caused her to drop all of her books

"I'm sorry – " Draco cut off when he saw it was the annoying half-blood here to council students. She smiled at him, shaking his head

"My fault, I was a million miles away"

He helped her to gather her things, and then stood, going to walk off again, but she caught his arm

"You seem frustrated"

That. That filthy little half-blood touching his expensive robe was what set Draco off.

"Of course I'm bloody frustrated! Little Miss Perfect Family is spreading word about my mother, my grades are nothing like they should be, and there's a filthy half-blood touching my robes!" he shrieked, and the woman let go quickly, blinking in shock

"We should really look into –"

"Don't'. Just _don't_." he growled, shaking his head in frustration and storming off, hating her touch, making a mental note to burn his robe. He knew he wasn't supposed to think like this anymore since the war was over. If he was caught treating someone badly because of their blood status these days, he could go on trial, he could be _expelled. _The ministry were as strict as ever when it came to equality now, clearly not wanting another blood war on their hands. People had avoided Draco since the end of the war. They gave him dirty looks and whispered things about him behind his back. His fellow Slytherins stayed loyal, but he was quite sure it was through fear rather than friendship. He didn't care, he hardly spoke to anyone these days anyway, he didn't like how they acted when he spoke to them. They were quite clearly forcing conversation. He didn't want fake friends, he didn't _need_ fake friends. But fake friends were all he had, real friends didn't seem to exist in Draco's world. He remembered back in his first year, when he had offered his friendship to Harry-bloody-Potter. The rejection had stung. It hadn't been fair, he had honestly meant his friendship, but what did he get in return? A sneer and a snarky comment, and then he had been forced to watch Potter get back to being chummy with the Weasley boy. Saint Potter was too good for him apparently.  
"Filthy little half-bloods" Draco muttered, cursing every last half-blood in the school as he made his way outside, needing some fresh air to calm him down.

**All you filthy muggles, I demand you review, or I shall...poke you...**


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N: Hello! Looky look, another chapter ^_^ Starts with flashback**

Draco stared in horror at the smashed window. He hadn't meant to throw his ball so hard, but he realized his mistake too late. Fragments of the windowpane now lay shattered across the room and there was even more glass on the ground outside the window. He began running, trying to find a house elf, any house elf, that could fix it for him before his father found out. But, rather than finding one of the shriveled elves, he instead ran straight into his father, stumbling backwards and looking up in terror into cold, steely eyes

"Draco, I have told you before, not to run in the house" Lucius spoke in a dangerously low voice

"I…I'm sorry sir, it's just that…I-I…I believed I could hear mother calling for me"

"Your mother is in Spain Draco, as you very well know"

"I forgot sir"

Lucius gave him a long, hard glare, and Draco looked at his shoes, not able to stand the coldness of his father's glare

"What was that noise before Draco?" he asked softly, and Draco decided that that was much worse than his father yelling

"What noise sir?"

"The sound of breaking glass"

"I…I don't know father, perhaps one of the servants dropped something"

He risked a glance up at his father, who looked even angrier.

"You, Draco, are a terrible liar. Come" he strode down the hall, Draco trotting behind him, finding it hard to match his father's long strides. Lucius stepped into the room which Draco had been playing in, his eyes going immediately to the smashed window.

"For how long Draco, did you think you could hide this from me?"

"I-I didn't…I…" Draco didn't know what to say, he was in a state of complete terror, wondering what his father would do to him.

"Stop mumbling boy!" Lucius barked,

"I'm sorry sir" he whispered,

"Sorry? Do you think that being sorry will fix the window? Do you think that by simply saying such a simple, hollow, meaningless word that you will instantly be forgiven?"

Draco was at a loss for words, and Lucius quickly grew bored of his silent act. He grabbed the small boy's arm and pulled him through twisting halls and down endless staircases, until a familiar cold hit Draco, the whole place reeking of rotting flesh.

"Father, father please don't. I'm sorry father, please don't!" he begged, but Lucius was already pushing him into one of the many cells in the Malfoy Dungeon, slamming the door shut and walking back upstairs without another word to his only child. Draco resisted the urge to cry, and crawled into a the corner, pulling his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them tightly.

It had been ten years since Draco had broken that window, but whenever he heard the sound of shattering glass, he always felt seven years old again, and waited to hear his father screaming at him. Even when it was not he who had made the glass smash. And so, when in potions class Potter dropped his vial, making the small bottle shatter into a million pieces, Draco leapt out of his skin, jumping backwards and straight into Goyle, who glared at him and shoved him away from him  
"Sorry" Draco muttered, watching as Slughorn fixed Harry's bottle and told him to be more careful. Draco knew Potter would not have gotten off so lightly had Snape still been alive. People around Draco were snickering at how startled he had been, and Draco glared at the desk, knowing that it was stupid to be so easily frightened. He glanced back up at Potter, smiling slightly. The boy looked so utterly shaggable, his hair falling into his eyes, which were no longer hidden by his glasses, Harry having finally invested in contacts, showing off his emerald green eyes. _Slytherin green really_, Draco mused. Class ended, and Draco left quickly, shouldering Potter out of his way

"Watch it Malfoy" Harry snapped, and Draco sneered at him, trying to head back to the common room for his free period, but a hand landed heavily on his shoulder

"Malfoy, come on, we've got practice" Flint barked, and Draco sighed, he wasn't in the mood for practice, but he knew he didn't have much of a choice.

The practice went well enough, and Draco managed to keep his temper in check, despite the fact that he didn't actually manage to catch the snitch.  
"Something wrong Malfoy?" Flint asked him afterwards, and Draco shrugged  
"Just tired I suppose"  
He went back to the changing rooms, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor, not trusting himself to look up when there were so many other males around him. He didn't notice when the other boys all left, and only realized when he felt someone shove him harshly

"What was that for?" he snapped, spinning round and glaring up at Goyle, who leered down at him

"I saw you in potions, what you were doing"

"Just as I saw you in potions, really Goyle, you can't have decreased in intelligence that much" Draco sneered, doing up his tie

"That's not what I meant you little fag."

Draco's eyes widened ever so slightly, and Goyle gave a victorious smirk

"You were watching Potter, just like all his other fan girls do. Bet that's the only reason you're on the quidditch team ain't it? To see the others in the shower" he spat, looking disgusted "What's your father think of this then eh? Or has daddy's little princess not told him yet?" he moved his face so close to Draco's, that at first, he was terrified Goyle was about to kiss him "Do you want me to tell daddy for you?"

Draco felt his blood turn to ice at those words, and Goyle spat in his face, turning to leave, not realizing that Draco was moving behind him. Draco grabbed his shoulder, spun the boy round, and punch him, feeling his bones in his fist shake in their place with the force that he used to punch Goyle. There was a loud crunch as Goyle's teeth were knocked from their gums, and blood started pooling in his mouth. Draco punched the boy again and again, Goyle eventually falling to the floor, Draco shrieking in rage, every bottled up bit of anger pouring out of him, tears of rage forming in his eyes, and he began kicking the boy until he had to stop from exhaustion. There was a pool of blood around Goyle, and spattered onto Draco, who looked at the boy with pure hate, sitting down heavily on the bench behind him.

"Malfoy, I need you to…"

Draco's head snapped up when he heard Flint's voice, and saw the horror on the boy's face as he took in the bloody sight of Goyle

"Bloody hell…" Flint whispered, and Draco knew nothing good could come from those words.

**The beginning flashback was a bit uncalled for, but I was in the mood to write about little Draco and mean old Lucius...please review! **


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N: Chapter 8 has arrived! But alas, 'tis not very long**. **Sorry. Blame my friend, she's taking up all of my writing time, as she wants a story about her and snape written fro her birthday**.

**Disclaimer: If I owned them, I'd have told you by now...damn you JK**

Draco sat in the headmistress's office, his heart beating a million miles a minute, his eyes darting between a bruised and bandaged Goyle, who sat between his glaring parents, and his father, who refused to meet Draco's eye, freezing him out totally, which terrified Draco more than if he had been yelling. When Draco's father stayed silent in rage, it meant that he was planning how to punish Draco, how to punish him properly, so that he would beg for his father's forgiveness, so that he would shriek in pain and sob at his father's feet. Draco took deep breaths, trying hard to suppress a shiver. McGonagall sat down at her desk, looking between the five people in front of him

"Now, let's discuss how this all began" she sighed, knowing that it would be a long afternoon

"You beat him, like a common muggle would. _Him_, a fellow Slytherin, a pureblood, a pureblood who's family is of use to me!** And not only that, but because he pointed you out for the freak that you are**" Lucius roared an hour later, once they were out of McGonagall's office. As soon as Goyle and his parents had left the office, Lucius had told McGonagall he was taking Draco home for a long talk, and had dragged the boy across the room, shoving him roughly into the fireplace and flooing the two of them out of the school. The last thing Draco had seen before the emerald flames engulfed them, was the old portrait of Dumbledore giving him a pitying look, and Draco didn't doubt for a second that the man knew exactly what his father planned to do to him. Draco was shoved onto the floor, and looked up at his father with total terror, watching as he raised his wand. The manor's halls were filled with screams, and the portraits of deceased Malfoys winced at the sound of the young man's shrieks. It was a good few hours before the manor fell silent.

When Draco went back to school, he looked terrible. He had spent the weekend with his father, and now had dark circles under his eyes, and, thought it seemed impossible, he looked paler. His eyes were blank and when he spoke, it was in a quiet, emotionless voice. His father really had pushed him to breaking point this time. But, of course, no-one noticed. No one liked to notice the ex-death eater any more, no one wanted to associate with such filth, whether they had served the Dark Lord willing or not. What difference would it make if someone noticed or not? Nobody would care. Draco Malfoy wasn't worth saving.

Harry Potter, like the rest of the school, had already heard both pieces of main gossip that had flown round the school. One: Draco Malfoy was gay. Two: Said gay had beaten Gregory Goyle so badly, that the boy had stayed in the hospital wing for two days, and was now missing two back teeth. Neither one of these pieces of news interested Harry greatly. What interested him, was watching the Slytherins' reactions. All of the Slytherins seemed to be against Draco. The once so called Slytherin prince seemed to have lost his crown, and was now hated by nearly everyone in the school. The only ones that didn't hate him, were those who had no opinion what so ever of him. Draco was no longer important enough to have an opinion formed about him, or so some thought. It was because of these two opinions – or in the latter's case, lack of opinion – that no-one noticed the change in Draco when he came back, not like Harry did. The boy was acting like it was his sixth year all over again. He wasn't eating, he was deathly pale, he jumped at the slightest thing. There was no longer the determined glint in his silver eyes, but instead, nothing. A horrible, emotionless nothing, as if the boy had finally given up. But why shouldn't he have? His family had lost their reputation, he was rejected from society because of his father's mistakes in the war, and now everyone knew the secret he had tried so hard to keep hidden. Harry very much doubted that Draco's father would accept Draco's preferred sexuality. Lucius Malfoy only had a son for one reason, and that was so his family name could be carried on. Harry shivered at the thought of what Lucius must have done to Draco when he found out. Harry watched as Draco moved quietly past a group of fourth year Slytherins, all of whom glared at him. His head was bowed, his shoulders slightly hunched over, his eyes fixed firmly on the ground. Draco Malfoy was the shadow of the boy he once was, and that shadow was slowly growing fainter.

**Aw! I've had thoughts about turning this into a Harry/Draco, but I'm not sure yet, what do you think? _REVIEW!!! _pretty please with sugar on top?**


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N: It's been 14 days exactly since I last updated. Two weeks it has taken me to post a new chapter...maybe I should try harder to improve that...**

Draco either got disgusted glares or perverted leers sent his way now days. No one wanted to know the queer who beat Gregory Goyle to a bloody pulp, and if they did, it was only for a good shag. He was afraid of leaving his dorm a lot of the time, afraid of being attacked and left in one of the unknown passageways of Hogwarts to die, or dragged off to some bloke's bedroom to be used like a cheap whore. He hated school, but he couldn't possibly leave, not with his father considering disowning him as the Malfoy heir. If he left, he wouldn't have the requirements for a decent job, and he'd need a decent job if he were to survive without the Malfoy fortune. His father had every right to disown him, and Draco was just waiting to be called to the manor so as his father could strip him of his title. He was a disappointment to the Malfoy name, his only really job was to hold up the family name, and produce an heir, but _Merlin, _he couldn't even get that right could he? Being a gay, hated outcast ruined Draco's chances of ever pleasing his father.

"Malfoy looks different" Harry said softly as the blonde passed the golden trio in the corridor, and Hermione and Ron looked at Harry, surprised

"I 'spose" Ron muttered, absent mindedly taking Hermione's hand in his own

"Well with everything he's done recently I'm not surprised. I heard his father didn't take it well" Hermione frowned, and Harry nodded, watching the pale Slytherin turn the corner and disappear out of view. It was something more than Draco being upset over his father being angry at him, Harry doubted very much that Draco had not suffered physical abuse when his father had taken him out of school after the incident with Goyle.

Draco turned the corner and jogged up a flight of steps to the seventh floor, turned past the room of requirement's hiding place – he swore he would never go back in there after his sixth year spent fixing the vanishing cabinet inside – and down a narrow corridor, opening the only door in the corridor, finding himself in a small, windowless room. This was his private room. He smiled, a slightly mad, twisted smile, and sat on the floor, pointing his wand to the door and casting a locking charm. Out of his pocket, he drew a small knife, and turned it over and over in his hand, thinking of all the wrongs he had committed over the past few days, thinking of the look of pure hate his father had given him. Draco rolled up his sleeves, looking at the scars that his father had left, his twisted smile still in place as he held the knife against the first of the many healing scars. He reopened the wound in a flash of silver, and watched the crimson liquid stain his snow white skin. He went over every scar, tears burning in his eyes from the pain, but still he carried on until every scar had been re-opened, and he sat in a pool of blood, his twisted smile slowly faded as he began tracing the scars with his wand, closing them up, knowing that if he didn't, he'd bleed out, and then his father would probably be even angrier. He healed himself, looking over the pink faded scars. He sighed, rolling his sleeves down and standing up, performing a quick cleaning spell, getting rid of all traces of blood from the floor and his robes before undoing his locking charm and steeping back out into the corridor, heading back towards the common room, only to be grabbed around his waist, and spun round, feeling rough hands shove him back against the wall, and he found himself starring into the face of Robert Graze, a seventh year Gryffindor, who grinned evilly at Draco,

"Out for a late night stroll Malfoy?"

"I…it's not late" he countered lamely  
"Tsk, it's past curfew Malfoy, you really shouldn't be out so late, some guys might take advantage of you being all alone after the news of you coming out" he pressed his body against Draco's and Draco tried in vain to push the well muscled Gryffindor off. He began fumbling for his wand, but Robert was too quick, and his hand flashed out, grabbing his wand and pointing his own at Draco

"No, no, play nice Malfoy, or I wont be gentle with you, and I don't want to have to tear up that pretty little ass of yours" Robert's hand moved round to Draco's behind and gave it a firm squeeze, causing a whimper to escape the trapped Slytherin.

"Get your filthy hands off me! Get off me you filthy half blo– "

A silencing spell hit Draco, followed by an immobilizing spell

"Uh uh uh! Not supposed to talk like that anymore are we Malfoy?" Robert purred, pressing himself even closer to Draco, who was now totally helpless

"Come on pretty boy" Robert grabbed him and began dragging him towards an empty classroom, throwing him inside and locking the door behind him.

Draco lay on the floor in a fetal position, tears streaming down his face, pain in every part of his body. He felt horrible and filthy and disgusting and _used_. Robert had left hours ago, but Draco hadn't moved, despite the fact that class had already started, but he couldn't face the day, not after that. He whimpered pitifully as he tried to sit up, pain shooting up through him. He eventually stood, and limped to the prefect's bathroom on the fifth floor, which he set up with triple locking charms, not taking chances. He filled the swimming pool sized bath and climbed into the boiling tub, scrubbing his skin raw, watching it turn from it's usual snow white perfection to an angry red. But he didn't care, he wanted the feeling of the boy off of him, and so he scrubbed harder, covering every inch of himself, dunking under the water several times to scrub at his face as well, the same thought screaming in his mind again and again, acting like a heartbeat. _Whore, whore, whore._ Draco wiped at the fresh tears, scrubbing himself more. His father would surely disown him if he ever knew, if he ever found out that his own son had been weak enough to get raped, that he hadn't been able to defend himself. He eventually climbed out of the bath, pulling on his robe and wrapping it tightly around himself, leaving the bathroom in hope that he wouldn't bump into anyone on his way to the common room. He wanted to return to his special room, but was terrified that Robert would find him again. So, being the snivelling coward that he was, he locked himself in his dorm, changing into warmer robes and finding a healing potion and calming draught, hoping that no-one would notice his disappearance for the day.

Harry looked over the Slytherin table, not really expecting to see the ex-prince sitting there. Malfoy never came for meals anymore, and Harry supposed he had the house elves bring him food should he get hungry. Malfoy now days looked like a skeleton, his robes looking far too big on him. It had been a long day, and classes had been tiring, but Harry hadn't failed to notice that Malfoy hadn't been in class, and when he went to visit Neville in the hospital wing – the poor bloke had been hit by the whomping willow when he hadn't been paying attention to where he was going – he saw that the Slytherin wasn't there either. It wasn't like Malfoy to skip class. Harry frowned, but Malfoy was soon forgotten as dinner appeared, and Seamus began talking about the Veela he had met over Christmas, who had sent him a rather suggestive letter that morning.

It was only a few days later that Harry remembered Malfoy. Well, in actual fact he didn't remember him, he just saw him, saw him jogging up the moving staircase. And so, with the same curiosity that always seemed to lead him into trouble, Harry followed him, making sure to keep his distance.

It was a few days before Draco got the nerve to go back to his special room. He had been terrified of running into Robert, and now went around with his wand gripped tightly in hand in case he should meet him again. He kept checking behind his shoulder, the horrible feeling that someone was following him haunting his every step. He eventually ended up running to the room, practically throwing himself inside and putting up a locking charm. He sat, watching the door for sometime, as if waiting for it to burst open. At last, when he was quite sure it had all been in his head, Draco pulled out his knife, tears already glistening in his eyes as he rolled up his sleeve.

Harry was breathing heavily as he reached the place where Malfoy had disappeared. He wondered if Malfoy had heard him, or seen him, and it had spooked the terrified teen. Harry could understand that, the guy had enough to worry about already without wondering if The-Boy-Who-Lived would be another trying to attack him. He found himself standing in front of a bare door, and frowned, trying to push the door open, but found that it was charmed locked.  
"What are you up to Malfoy?" he muttered to himself, pulling out his wand and casting a disillusionment charm over himself, and sitting down, waiting for the blonde to come out.

Harry eventually began drifting off to sleep, having waited for the boy for about two hours, until he finally started to get worried. The last time Malfoy had acted so mysteriously and become so ill-looking, he had been doing a secret mission for Voldemort. Harry looked uneasily at the door, wondering what the blonde was doing now. Draco had hated being a death eater, Harry thought that had been quite obvious, surely he wouldn't be doing anything to help them now would he? Not after the war was over, and Voldemort long dead. Harry pulled out his wand and began muttering an unlocking spell he had learnt during his hunt for the horcruxs last year, it was useful for undoing simpler locking charms, which Harry hoped Draco had used. The door finally opened with a click, and Harry smiled, slowly pushing the door open, and taking in the horrific sight before him. Slumped on the floor was Draco Malfoy's body, blood surrounding him, a fallen knife next to him, his arm stretched out, the word **_Whore_ **carved into his arm, bleeding heavily, many more faded scars underneath the word.

"Shit" Harry gasped, moving quickly towards the fallen prince, kneeling over his body, and The-Boy-Who-Lived knew that, though he had only just managed to save millions during the war, it would be even harder to try and save the blonde Slytherin who no longer had a reason to live.

**Draco! Nooo! Quick, help him, review as fast as you can! Did I manage to make anyone cry? _Anyone?_**

**Oh, and also feel free to message me about errors, I did check it through, but it's likely I missed something. **


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N: LOOK! Look how quickly I updated, I _told_ you I'd work on it! I think I deserve a reward for my efforts *cough-review-cough***

When Draco regained consciousness, he wondered if he was dead. He had cut so deep, and had watched as blood poured out of him, knowing that he'd gone to far. If he was dead, he knew his father would be cross, Lucius didn't want to have to go through the hassle of having _another_ child, and having to raise a Malfoy heir all over again. Draco tried opening his eyes, but a brilliant white made him shut them again with a groan. _Death shouldn't be so bright_ he thought bitterly

"Malfoy? Malfoy are you awake?" Harry's head snapped up when he heard the blonde groan

_Ugh, and what's Potter doing here? He's not dead too is he? I'm not sharing the afterlife with **him**__ if he is, he can find somewhere else to spend eternity _Draco was beginning to think that death was not without a sense of irony, putting him with Potter for his afterlife, and leaving him somewhere coloured brightest white, which did nothing for his complexion.

"Die somewhere else Potter" Draco muttered, his throat hurting as he spoke. Should he feel pain after death? His left arm throbbed from where he had cut it, and he had a headache. Death was fucking awful.

"Madame Pomfrey, I think Malfoy's awake" Potter called, and Draco sighed, was the school nurse dead too?

"Mr. Malfoy? Mr. Malfoy can you hear me?"

Draco groaned in response, his eyes opening slightly to find the nurse leaning over him

"Mr. Malfoy, do you remember what happened?"

Draco didn't want to talk, he wanted them to go away and stop talking, and he _certainly_ didn't want to remember. He moaned and closed his eyes once more

"I-Is he…will he be alright?" Potter asked in a slightly shaken voice. Since when did Scar Head care if he'd be alright?

"His physical wounds should clear up soon with some dittany, but I've no idea what his mental state will be like. You did a good thing bringing him here Mr. Potter"

" 's not like I could leave him there to die" Potter mumbled, and Draco winced at the memory of being carried. He had been close to unconsciousness, unable to open his eyes and not entirely sure of what was happening around him, but he remembered someone lifting him, and carrying him, muttering swear words the entire way.

"You'd best get some rest Mr. Potter, he won't be talking for a while I shouldn't think. Come back in a few hours."

Draco heard footsteps and sighed drifting back to sleep, quite sure he wasn't as dead as he thought he was.

"Now Mr. Malfoy, this may sting a bit, but you'll just have to bear with me" the nurse spoke softly as she rubbed something cold onto Draco's arm, and he winced, childishly trying to pull his arm away from the nurse, but she kept a firm grip on it, sighing as Draco let out a small whining noise. He knew he was acting like a child, but he honestly didn't care any more. He whined and whimpered, tugging his arm, ignoring the nurse telling him to behave. His eyes were still firmly shut, but he knew that the nurse would be giving him the stern look which she wore so well.

"Mr. Malfoy, behave yourself" she scolded, but in a soft tone, the boy had been through a lot "I know it hurts dear, but it's for the best" she soothed "And your mother and father have been told, and they'll be coming down in a few days"

Draco's eyes finally snapped open and he sat bolt upright. He felt his heart stop, and then restart at double the pace it had been before and swallowed

"Both of them?" he asked quietly

"Yes dear, both of them" Madam Pomfrey smiled, happy to see the boy had finally opened his eyes and was talking, clearly not understanding that the news had terrified Draco, rather than reassure him as she had hoped it would. Draco nodded dumbly, showing that he understood, and Madam Pomfrey was happy to find that he had stopped struggling, and she applied the last of the healing cream with ease. Draco collapsed back onto his pillows, which had been readjusted so that Draco could sit up with his back against them and it would be easier for Madam Pomfrey to see to his arm, which Draco found had a needle mark on it from where they had pumped blood back into him. He worked very hard to control his breathing, wondering what on earth he would tell his father. The word **_Whore_ **was still carved into his arm, and Draco felt a lump rise in his throat, flashes of the night running through his mind, the word whore echoing in his mind. He screamed when he felt a hand on his shoulder, moving to the other side of his bed whimpering. He met emerald eyes, and inwardly cursed himself

"I-I'm sorry Malfoy. I didn't mean to scare you" Harry held up his hands

"You didn't scare me" Draco snapped quickly, moving back to where the centre of the bed "What do you want anyway Potter?"

"I…I just wanted to make sure you were alright" Harry muttered, looking down at his shoes

"What do you care?" Draco's eyes narrowed suspiciously "Why should _you_ care about the Slytherin Poof Potter?" he snarled, his voice breaking at the end, and he inwardly cursed himself for getting so emotional. A Malfoy should never show emotion.

"Because I'm the one who found you" Harry spoke quietly "And I want to know _why_ I found you bleeding on the floor of an abandoned room, with this – " he pointed to Draco's arm "– carved into your flesh"

Draco stared at Potter, wondering why he had bothered to save him. But, of course, the hero of the wizarding world had to save yet another didn't he?

"Why should I tell you? So you can tell all your Gryffindor minions about how you rescued a pathetic Slytherin?"

Harry shook his head angrily

"I haven't told anyone Malfoy, why would I? What you did…it's…you're..." Harry struggled to find the right word

"Sick?" Draco snarled, then looked away in shame, wondering if Potter was telling the truth about not having told anyone.

"Private. It's a private matter for you Malfoy. Someone drove you to this, didn't they? Someone made you consider yourself so low that you eflt you had to mutilate yourself– "

"**Shut _up_ Potter!**" Draco shrieked, and Harry, shocked by this sudden outburst, stepped back from the bed, trying to ignore what he was quite sure were tears in Draco's eyes.

"Mr. Malfoy, I do believe you are in need of rest. Professor Thompson will be coming to speak with you tomorrow"

"I'm not speaking with her" Draco muttered, but Madam Pomfrey ignored him, leading Harry out of Draco's private hospital room, where it had been thought best to keep the emotionally distressed boy.

"Mr. Potter, you really must be careful with what you say. Mr. Malfoy is in a delicate state, and he needs to talk about what drove him to self-harm in his own time. I know you're trying to help him dear, but it's best to take these things slowly."

Harry nodded, and tried to ignore the quite sound of sobbing coming from Malfoy's room.

Lucius read over the letter once more, knowing that Narcissa had been sent a copy as well.

_Dear Mr. Malfoy_,

_I regret to inform you that your son Draco was rushed to the hospital wing late last night with extreme scarring and severe blood loss. It is suspected that the injuries were self inflicted, and your son will be speaking to the school's temporary therapist once in a fit condition. We feel it best that you and your wife come to visit Draco during such an emotionally straining time, and, if need be, take him home for some restful time away from his peers. We understand that Draco has lately been a victim of terrible stress and ridicule from his school mates, and believe that the boy will need a more peaceful environment if he is to recover successfully. _

_Yours Sincerely _

_Minerva McGonagall_

_Hogwarts Headmistress _

Lucius shook his head, wondering how his once promising heir had fallen so low. He sighed, not looking forward to spending time with his wife and twisted son.

**Review? Pretty please? And do tell me about any mistakes. And these are answers for charmedpiper1819 as she doesn't allow private messaging, and this is the only way to reply I could think of **

Will Grace become a mother figure to Draco? **I don't think so, Grace is a side character who, though she will have her uses, won't take much of a main role**  
Will Draco and Harry become friends after what Harry finds in the last chapter you updated? **Eventually, I'm planning**  
Will Grace adopt Draco? **No, plain and simple, sorry! But Draco is of age now remember**  
Will Hermione and Ron accept Draco as Harry's friend or boyfriend in the future?** I've not yet decided...**  
Will Draco get therapy from Grace? **Stubborn Draco may or may not accept therapy from Grace, I'm not going to give it away yer**  
Will Grace meet somebody who would be a father figure to Draco? **Like I said, side character**  
In the story Reflection will Grace date? **Meh, I might let her be married...if I'm feeling nice**  
Will Lucius get arrested for what he's done to Draco? **...that's an interesting idea, I shall have to mull over that, chances are 50-50 right now though**  
Will Narcissa become a mom to Draco or will she disown Draco? **You'll see in the next chapter, I promise**  
Will Draco have a father figure in the future of your story? **Hm...I don't think Draco's looking for a father figure, he's so fixed on pleasing Lucius he can't imagine seeing anyone else as a father**

**Sorry, that's the best I can answer right now.  
**


	11. Chapter 11

Draco stared stubbornly at the floor, not responding to any of the questions he was being asked. The stupid half-blood questioning him still kept that idiotic smile on her face, which Draco was supposed was supposed to look reassuring, but he found mocking, as if she felt that she knew exactly why he had done it. But no, she didn't know, no-one did, it was the one secret that Draco still had, and he would hold onto it until the day he died, he wouldn't let anyone know, and soon, once he was out of this joke of a school, they'd forget all about him and no-one would ask him why again.

"Are you sure you don't want to speak about this Draco?" Grace put a hand on Draco's knee, and Draco suddenly looked up, his eyes burning with hate, glaring at the woman, who quickly removed her hand, realising that the boy had some touching issues. "Alright, I'll come back when you feel ready to talk, alright?"

Draco simply continued to glare at her, but Grace took no notice, and smiled at him one more time before leaving his private room. Harry was waiting outside, and he looked up at her hopefully

"He's not quite ready to talk about it yet dear, I think I'll come back when he's got over the shock of it all" Grace spoke kindly, hoping that the boy would understand that he wasn't to push Draco for information. Harry simply nodded, wondering if she knew that Draco would never willingly talk about it, Slytherins were renowned for their stubbornness. He stepped into Draco's room, eyeing the young man who was staring into space, obviously unaware of Harry's presence.

"Malfoy" Harry spoke quietly, and silver eyes stared up at him coldly

"What do you want Potter?" he muttered, and Harry began to walk towards his bed  
"You need to talk about it Malfoy"  
"Do I now? Well, is blessed Saint Potter says I need to talk about it, I suppose I _must_, mustn't I?" Draco sneered, and waved a hand towards the door "Leave Potter, I don't require you to save me"

Harry glared at Draco, wondering momentarily why he had bothered visiting him in the first place. But then, he saw the faded scars on his arm, the word **_Whore_ **still quite visible, and Harry knew why he had come, because Draco had lost everything since the war, and now he was loosing himself. Harry, instead of feeling his anger settle at the thought, felt even angrier, white rage wondering why the prat wouldn't just accept help before he ended up killing himself.

"You're pride will choke you to death one day Malfoy" Harry spat, marching out of the room and slamming the door shut

"Then at least I don't have to swallow it" Draco whispered to the empty room, bringing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them, feeling suddenly very small.

Before his parents came, Draco was given a calming draught by a worried looking Madam Pomfrey. He drank it all quickly, thanking Merlin for whoever invented the stuff. His mother and father came into the room around lunchtime, and found Draco sat up in bed, a tray of untouched food next to him, with the nurse rubbing a healing salve into his arm

"I'm afraid to say I think those scars will be permanent" she sighed, not having noticed the two other Malfoys

"Permanent?" Narcissa squeaked, pushing past Lucius and examining her son's arm "They can't possibly be permanent, they're just scars, they should fade shouldn't they?" Narcissa was acting uncharacteristically motherly,

"I'm afraid they wont fade completely Mrs. Malfoy, he was brought in too late, and the scars were too deep. We did what we could"

Lucius eyed his wife as she fussed over Draco. The woman hadn't bothered to be around whilst Draco was growing up, yet now she acted as if he were the most precious thing in the world to her

"Ridiculous" Lucius muttered under his breath, moving towards the bed, and Madame Pomfrey took it as a sign to leave, letting the family talk through what had happened.

"Care to explain Draco?" Lucius raised an eyebrow, and Draco swallowed.

"Oh my poor dragon" Narcissa pulled Draco into a tight hug, crushing the fragile young man against her chest

"I'm…fine…mother" Draco struggled to pull away from her, and Narcissa shook her head

"You're not fine dragon, you're sick. But mummy's sorted it all out, and you'll soon be getting the best psychiatric help there is and we'll– "

"I don't need help mother, I'm perfectly fine." Draco snapped

"Don't snap at your mother Draco" Lucius glared first at Draco, then at Narcissa "And you are not sending Draco anywhere, it'll be hugely publicised and I will not have _that_ hanging over the Malfoy name"

"Just ignore him dragon" Narcissa hushed, pumping up Draco's pillow "And then, once you're all better, you can come to live with me, and we can finally be a proper mother and son again"

Draco suddenly understood why his mother was acting so affectionate. She wanted to win Draco. All his life, Draco had been in the middle of his parent's war, but Draco was quite sure that his mother had given up on trying to win Draco over. Lucius had always had the upper hand, because he had taught Draco when he was very young, that "father was always right" Draco knew now of course that his father was not always right, his choices in the war proved that, but there was still an unexplainable hold that Lucius had on Draco, and Draco very much doubted that he could ever break it. What his mother was doing now was not showing affection, she was simply trying to annoy her husband.

"I don't need help mother" Draco repeated, in a politer voice this time "I…it was a moment of madness, the pressure of everything took its toll on me, I'm perfectly fine now"

"You're not, look, you haven't even touched your food, and you're skin and bones as it is! Dragon you –"

"Would you stop calling him that ridiculous name? He's eighteen for Merlin's sake!" Lucius snarled, and Narcissa gave him a pointed glare

"It's his name, he's his mother's dragon, aren't you Draco?"

"I –" Draco looked lost

"He is the Malfoy heir, and doesn't need to be treated like a child"

"I'm still –"

"He _is_ a child Lucius! He's barely an adult, he can't handle this on his own!"

"I can – "

"He's fine! At seventeen, he should know how to stand on his own two feet. Maybe if he weren't so pathetically hopeless, he wouldn't have resorted to this, but you can only expect that from a Black, can't you?"

"Don't blame my family for this! He gets it from your mad father!"

"My father– "

"Mr. and Mrs. Malfoy would you please!" Madame Pomfrey snapped, storming into the room "Your son is in a very delicate state right now, and he does not need the two of you screaming. I'm afraid that I will have to ask you to leave"

"You have no right to tell me to leave my son"

"I believe I do Mr. Malfoy, as a medical carer, it is my duty to get rid of anything that may upset Draco's recovery, and right now, that is you and your wife."

Lucius looked outraged, but Narcissa was already leaning down to kiss her son on the forehead before leaving in a quick click of heels. Lucius, not wanting to look the childish one, left in a swirl of black robes, not bothering to say goodbye to Draco, not even looking at the boy before he left. Draco collapsed back onto his pillows, shutting his eyes and letting out a long sigh of relief. It had gone better than he had expected.

Draco moaned as he woke, covering his eyes with his arm as light poured into the room. It was just after midnight, and he had been sleeping peacefully, but now someone was entering the room, a bright light coming from the tip of their wand

"Malfoy" came a quiet purr, and Draco stiffened "Are you going to play nice this time?"

Cold hands travelled up Draco's chest, and hard, possessive lips pressed against his. Draco reached up and pushed desperately against Robert's chest, managing to push him away momentarily  
"Come on Malfoy, be a good boy" long fingers traced Draco's faded scars "Mmm, you _are _a whore aren't you Malfoy? You're _my_ Whore"

"Get the fuck off me, get off!" Draco snarled, and felt Robert slap him hard across the face, crushing his lips down on Draco's once more, forcing his tongue into Draco's mouth. Draco squeezed is eyes shut, desperately praying that things wouldn't take the same turn as they did last time. Suddenly, he felt the boy thrown off of him, and leaned over the side of his bed, emptying his stomach of its contents, which wasn't much to begin with. Soon he was simply dry heaving, shaking violently, hearing low, angry voices, but not understanding a word of what was being said.

"Malfoy, _Malfoy_ are you alright? Malfoy what's –"

Draco felt a hand on his shoulder and screamed, scrambling out off bed and throwing himself across the room

"Don't _fucking_ touch me again Graze! I'm not your fucking whore!" Draco shrieked, tears forming in his eyes, but when the boy approached him carefully, Draco didn't see the sneering face of Robert, he saw Harry, starring at him, shock and disgust etched on his face. Draco's eyes slid to a black shape on the floor, Robert had been knocked unconscious.  
"Malfoy…what the hell did he do to you?" Harry whispered, and Draco, too overwhelmed by the situation to carry on, collapsed onto the floor, falling into unconsciousness.


	12. Chapter 12

**A/N: Thank you guys for all the review/story alerts/favourites I got for the last chapter, and I'm sorry that I've made you wait for this one. **

_A fair haired boy, no older than six, sat on his mother's lap, laughing softly as she ran her fingers through his hair, his silver eyes sparkling. _

_"Where have you been mother? You went away for so long" the child questioned, with wide, innocent eyes_

_"Mummy decided that she wanted a little holiday, that's all Draco"_

_But the child wasn't accepting that_

_"But you were gone for months! And father said that you were causing a sc...a scab" the boy screwed up his face, trying to remember what his father had said "a sandal!"_

_The woman laughed, shaking her head_

_"I think you mean a scandal my dragon. And your father says things even when he's no idea what he's talking about"_

_"But father _always_ knows what he's talking about! He's the cleverest man in the whole world mother!" Draco insisted, and watched as his mother looked suddenly tired  
"One day, you might think differently dragon" she sighed, and stopped stroking his hair, suddenly sliding him off of her lap "Go and play now Draco. mummy has work to do"_

_"Father says the only work you do is spending the family fortune" Draco didn't say it spitefully as his father had, but curiously, as if questioning her  
_

_"Well sweetheart, the only work that your father seems to do is sleep with whores and use his money to get ahead of those with more talent than him. Now go and play darling" Narcissa managed to keep her sweet, patronising tone for all of her short rant, and Draco was thoroughly confused by the end of it. He went to his father and repeated what had been said, asking him what a whore was after explaining what his mother had said. For some reason, his father grew very angry, and stormed past Draco, telling him to stay in his office. Draco sat there for a long time, and when his father eventually came back, he was wiping blood off of his hands with a white handkerchief_

_"Father?" Draco asked cautiously, eyeing the now blood stained piece of cloth, and his father gave him a sick, twisted smile_

_"You were a good boy coming to tell me what your mother said Draco."_

_"Is...is mother alright?" He couldn't stop staring at the blood, and the look on his father's face, as if he had just finished caning Draco_

_"Your mother shan't be joining us for dinner, she's fallen ill."_

_"Oh" was all Draco said before slinking out of the room. It was after that that Draco decided to stop telling his father secrets._

* * *

Draco woke with a searing pain on the side of his head. He reached up and gingerly pressed against the side of his head, hissing in pain when he found a small lump there.

"I'm glad to see you're up" came a soft voice, and Draco looked up to find Harry sitting next to his bed, his face looking grim "Do you remember what happened last night?"

Draco did remember, all too clearly. He looked at Harry blankly, and, after a few more moments, gave a small nod

"Would you like to talk about it?"

Draco shook his head

"Come on Malfoy, you can't keep this stuff bottled up"

Maybe he could. Maybe he could just never talk again, and then people would grow bored of him and leave him be.

"Malfoy I really don't think it's healthy for you to..." Harry started going into a rant, and Draco rolled his eyes. He'd never be able to stay mute, otherwise he wouldn't have able to tell Potter to shut his mouth

"I don't need to talk about it"

Harry was surprised at the small, throaty voice, and he offered the blonde a glass of water, which he accepted gratefully.

"You should talk Malfoy, even if were just to some friends–" Harry cut off immediately, realising his mistake too late. Draco narrowed his eyes hatefully

"Yes, of course Potter, _my friends_, I've got tons of them. There are the ones that despise me for being an ex-death eater despite the fact that it was against my own will, the ones that think me a bastard for beating up Goyle, and the ones that avoid me at all costs because I'm a poof. Gosh, I've so many too choose from haven't I?" Draco, despite the hate in his voice, was broken by the sudden realisation that not a single person in Hogwarts liked him.

"Come on Malfoy, you know I didn't mean to. . .I'm sorry"

Draco was surprised at this. He'd never heard the all mighty Potter apologise before.

"You know you're going to have to talk eventually don't you?"

"Oh, well if Saint Potter says -"

"This isn't a game Malfoy! We're not kids anymore, you can't just insult me because you're afraid to admit the truth that you were raped by that fucking bastard Graze!"

What little colour Draco had recovered quickly drained from his face, his left eye twitched slightly, and his throat went dry.

"You don't know what the fuck you're talking about Potter" Draco's voice was barely a whisper

"Draco" Harry said softly, and Draco thought it odd to hear his first name spoken in Harry's voice "_Please_, let me help you Draco"

"I don't want your Goddamn help! I don't want anyone's help! I'm not some sad case that needs therapy, I'm fine!"

"You're not! You can't even have people touching you normally without jumping, or screaming. Draco let me help you, let _someone_ help you, please."

"No" Draco's voice broke halfway through the word "I can't. . . don't need it. . . 'm fine" he mumbled, tears in his eyes. Maybe, if he just kept on saying those words, they'd come true, and he really would be fine, and no-one else need ever know, and he could carry on like nothing happened, and one day, he'd wake up, and not even be able to remember the night that his life turned to complete shit, the night where everything got so fucked up and despite how hard he'd tried to forget it he couldn't, and every time he felt someone touch him, all he could remember was how _he_ touched him, and how sometimes he wondered if it was even worth carrying on when all he was now was someone's dirty, cheap whore and -

"You're not a whore Draco, you didn't have a choice" Harry said softly, and Draco jumped

"W...what?" Good God, either Potter's legilimency skills had suddenly improved drastically or else -

"You're not a whore, and you do need to carry on. You can't kill yourself, that's just letting Graze know that he had that much of an effect on you, when really, you need to show him that you're stronger than that"  
Shit. Was Draco really so stupid that he had been speaking aloud? Draco shook his head, trying to clear his mind, but all he could feel was anger. He was angry at Potter for getting information out of him, angry at Robert for raping him, angry at himself for making this whole mess happen, and angry at his father, because the bastard hadn't even tried to console him when he had come to visit. Hell, he hadn't even wanted to be there, you could tell that by just looking at him. Draco Lucius Malfoy was a joke to the world, and his father hated him for it. The man who Draco had most admired ever since he was two years old, hated him. Tears burned in Draco's eyes, and he'd be damned if he was going to let the golden boy see him cry.

"Get out" Draco growled

"Wh–…Draco what's – "

"_Don't_ call me Draco. We're not friends Potter, and you have no right to visit me. Get out and don't come back" Draco spat hatefully

"You can't keep pushing me away Malfoy! You need help – "

"I don't want help!" Draco shrieked, and flung himself out of bed, happy to find that he was a good few inches taller than Harry "Let it go Potter, no-one cares if I'm in need of help, _look_ at who I am! Tell me that you honestly want to help someone like _me_." He swallowed thickly, blinking back tears, and slowly, calmed himself, sitting on the side of his bed "Nobody cares about me Potter, I'm scum in the public's eyes, so why don't you bugger off before you get my filth on your golden boy reputation?"

Harry sighed heavily, the blonde was slowly drowning in the hate that the world had thrown at him. Nobody wanted to associate themselves with the likes of Draco Malfoy, and Draco had accepted this, he didn't expect people to want to help him anymore. Harry was at a loss as to what to do. Draco had shut his eyes tight and his head was hanging in self-hate, his face buried in his hands. Draco's back was heaving, and Harry suddenly realised that the fallen prince was silently sobbing, the pressure of being re-visited by Robert, of admitting that he thought himself a whore to Harry, of telling Harry that the world thought of him as scum…it was all too much for Draco. He had given up on wearing his mask of hate, and had finally brokn down into tears. Draco wasn't as strong as he pretended to be. He was just a scared teenager, who was so hated that he had given up on the thought of someone ever trying to help him. He had fought with being gay, and when he had finally accepted the idea, it had got him beaten by his father, and raped. The world no longer cared for Draco Malfoy, and Draco Malfoy no longer cared for anything. He had grown up unloved, and sometime during his childhood, had forgotten how to love himself.

**Hope you guys have a great Christmas (I may or may not update before the 25th, not sure yet) and as a Christmas present, all I ask for is reviews reviews reviews!One review from each reader would make my Christmas complete!**


	13. Chapter 13

**I DID IT! Here you go guys, an update before the 25th. Thank you for all the love I got for the last chapter, especially from x. shooting. star, who _always_ reviews** **and keeps me writing. Happy holidays star, and thank you!**

Harry eventually managed to get Draco to stop crying. He sat by the young man, rubbing his back uncertainly, and Draco finally ran out of tears. The blonde looked up at him with red eyes, looking incredibly child-like, so lost and innocent, and Harry remembered when he had found Draco crying in the bathroom in their sixth year, he cringed at the memory of how that "meeting" had ended.*****

"Why did you have to come here Potter? Why did you have to find me that night? Why did you have to be here when Graze came back? Why is it you always show up where you're not wanted?" he didn't speak with the malice that Harry expected, but in a hoarse, soft voice, as if it were truly a question

"If I hadn't found you that night you'd be dead Dr–…Malfoy" Harry murmured

"Harry Potter, saving Draco Malfoy. The press will have a field day" Draco mumbled bitterly

"The press aren't finding out"

Draco let out a bark of laughter, shaking his head

"Look at who we are Potter! Of course they'll find out. People like us don't get privacy, you of all people should know that by now."

Harry realised that he was still rubbing Malfoy's back, and pulled his hand away, blushing.

"What will your father say?" Harry asked cautiously, watching Draco's eyes grow sadder

"Why do you ask?"

"You just…seem to look up to him" Harry shrugged "His opinion must mean a lot to you"

"I'm not sure my father can be bothered with me anymore to be honest Potter" Draco studied his hands as he spoke "He seems to have given up on turning me into the _perfect heir_ that he once imagined. I'm quite sure that my mother is still fond of me, though she wanted to take me to a specialist when they came to visit me. I of course refused"

"She's obviously worried about you" Harry said gently

"No Potter, she isn't. She just wanted to spite my father. They've fought for my loyalty since I was born, giving me toys and books and trips to far away lands. Random treats and special gifts, always trying to out do each other." Draco sighed heavily "You think me a spoilt brat don't you?"

"I…" Harry shook his head in denial, but then sighed and admitted "Yes."

Draco surprised the Gryffindor, he laughed. Actually _laughed_!

"I don't blame you" he chuckled but his smile didn't reach his eyes "I knew that their gifts were for all the wrong reasons, but I took them anyway. I still do. My mother is planning for me to go to Rome with her during the Easter break, and my father is planning for me to go to Russia with him"

Harry, who had never been on holiday – the Dursleys thinking that it was a waste of money to take him along with them – felt a slight jealousy towards Draco. As soon as this hit him, he pushed the feelings back down, feeling ashamed. For Merlin's sake, the boy's life had become so awful that he was suicidal. The atmosphere in the room because suddenly awkward, as neither boy knew what to say. Thankfully, it was then that Madam Pomfrey decided to come in, a light blue potion in one hand, and a collection of letters in the other, which she handed to Draco before saying  
"Now my dear, you're to take this before your lunch, it might make you a bit sleepy, and maybe a bit _funny_. And I want to see you eat something today, Merlin knows how you're still walking, you're skin and bones" she spoke as if speaking to a young child, and Harry saw a small smile grace Draco's lips, clearly enjoying being fussed over like a child. The nurse left, and Harry swallowed, knowing that he needed to tell someone about Draco and Graze, and he glanced at Draco uneasily, watching as he sorted through his post,

"I…about Graze. I need to tell someone. Or at least, someone does, I mean you could, if it would be easier, but I thought…I mean, if I told someone it might be easier, but you'd need to trust me, although– "

"Potter you're rambling" Draco sighed, putting his letters on his bed side table and turning to look the Gryffindor straight in the eye "You're very keen on the idea of me talking aren't you?"

Harry nodded silently, and Draco sighed, shaking his head, picking up the potion vial and sniffing the contents before downing the liquid in one go

"I don't want to talk about this Potter. I don't need more people knowing, isn't it enough that you know?" Draco rubbed his eyes sleepily

"If you don't want to tell people Draco, I'm going to have to."

"Yeah, you would wouldn't you?" Draco muttered, settling down on his bed, laying his head down on his pillow, his eyes drooping

"Draco, are you alright?" Harry asked quietly, crouching down by the young man's bed, wondering what had been in his potion

"'m _fine_**!**" Draco exclaimed, a small smile on his face "Fine and fine and fine and…hello father!" Draco smile grew suddenly, and Harry spun round, finding the senior Malfoy standing behind him. Harry stood slowly, his hand twitching towards his wand pocket, his eyes fixed on the older man

"What were you doing with my son Potter?" Lucius's eyes narrowed, and Harry felt very young under his gaze. He wondered if Draco ever felt the same.

"Nothing sir. Just talking to him" Harry held the man's gaze, wanting to run and hide

"I don't want you near my son Potter, and I very much doubt that he does either"

"With all due respect Mr. Malfoy, your son is of legal age, he can make his own choices"

"Oh? He has made his own choices in the past, and look where that has got him. Draco cannot be trusted with his own future, I dread to think what would become of the Malfoy name."

"If you're referring to Draco's chosen sexuality _sir_" he spat the last word with total contempt "Then I think that you should try to consider this situation from Draco's point of view." Harry was blinded by rage "He not only has to deal with being gay, but has had to deal with _you_ finding out about it, and then getting rape– " Harry cut off, his eyes widening as Lucius Malfoy stared at him, his face unbelieving. Draco, by this time, had fallen asleep, soft snores coming from the bed, and was not aware of what had just happened

"I…Mr. Malfoy I– "

"Raped? **_Raped?_**" The man snarled "What do you know Potter? _Answer me!_"

"I…" Harry glanced uneasily at Draco, knowing that there was no way out now that he had started this "A seventh year Gryffindor. He attacked your son and…tried to again whilst Draco was in here, but he was stopped"

"What was his name?" Lucius snapped, looking ready to kill

"Graze sir, Robert Graze" Hell, Lucius was going to find out eventually.

"Why was I not told about this earlier? Why was it not mentioned in the letter I was sent?"

"No-one else knew sir" Harry muttered "I only found out last night"

Lucius seemed to have heard enough. He pointed to the door and growled "Out Potter"

Harry did as he was told, not wanting to stay in the man's presence any longer than necessary. He gave Draco one last glance before leaving, watching as the senior Malfoy approached his unconscious son.

* * *

Draco jumped as his hospital room door banged open, and a furious Harry Potter strode towards his bed and began shaking a newspaper at him

"What the hell is this Malfoy?" Harry snarled, pointing to the paper which read

**_Hogwarts Student Found Dead near Hogsmede_**_  
Last night a boy's body was found just a few miles away from Hogsmede village, and was identified as Robert Graze, a seventh year Gryffindor from Hogwarts school of witchcraft and wizardry  
_

Draco stopped reading, looking up at Harry with a pained expression  
"You think I did this?" he whispered, his voice shaking

"Come off it Malfoy. Your father shows up here, finds out that you were raped and then suddenly Graze is dead?"

"My father knew about Graze…how?"

Harry looked at Draco, realising that he looked totally confused, and ready to cry

"I…I told him" Harry's voice lost its volume "Didn't he talk to you about it when I left?"

"No…he told me that our trip to Russia was cancelled." Draco's eyes hardened, and he glared up at Potter "You acted like you cared about me Potter. You sat here while I cried my fucking heart out, and then you turn around and accuse me of murder!"

"I…Draco I never meant to– "

"Yeah, great, of course you didn't. Get out Potter. I might be an ex-death eater, but I never killed anyone, and I'm quite sure I never could. Despite what you think, I'm not my father."

Harry watched as the hours spent gaining Draco's trust became worthless, and the little companionship he had achieved with the boy was gone. Harry slunk out of the room, ashamed of himself.

**Harry James Potter, you little bastard! Oh, but I love him really....now on to the statistic stuff**

**Hits: 1894 Favourites: 8 Story Alerts: 19  
I'm very grateful for these numbers (I didn't think _anyone_ would like this story when I started it) but, as grateful as I am for all the hits, favourites, and alerts, could I please, _please_ _PLEASE _get more reviews? Pretty please? It doesn't take much to make me happy, all I'm asking is for a few words saying what you do and don't like about Reflection. A free Draco doll with every review! He's angst-alicious! Happy holidays everyone, I'll see if I can get a new chapter in before the new year, but I may need some reviews to motivate me *hint hint*  
**

*** From the chapter Sectumsempra in HBP  
**


	14. Chapter 14

**A/N: I had people asking why Lucius hadn't flipped out in the last chapter, but think about this...if he had, would Draco _really_ tell Harry? I present to you, The Lucius flipping out chapter! Starts with flashback, to refresh your minds, Harry has just told Lucius about Robert Graze.**

_Lucius seemed to have heard enough. He pointed to the door and growled "Out Potter"_

_Harry did as he was told, not wanting to stay in the man's presence any longer than necessary. He gave Draco one last glance before leaving, watching as the senior Malfoy approached his unconscious son. Lucius stalked over to his son, grabbing his shoulder and shaking him roughly, getting even angrier when he did not wake up. His son was a whore, a disgusting little Gryffindor's whore_

_"Sursum" Lucius hissed, and Draco's eyes snapped open, and he woke with a gasp, as if a bucket of icy water had been poured on him. He looked up at his father, who's stormy eyes had turned dark, and were glinting dangerously _

_"Tell me about Robert Graze, Draco" Lucius snarled, and Draco's eyes widened in fear, and his bottom lip began to tremble. "Tell me why you kept him a secret"_

_"I…"_

_"Is it because you _enjoyed_ it Draco?" Lucius's lip curled in disgust "Did you moan for him, like a good little slut? Like the wanton whore that you– "_

_"**You think I enjoyed being used like that?**" Draco shrieked, on his feet in a flash, pure hate burning in his eyes "Why do you think I'm here father? Why do you think I defaced my own fucking arm?"_

_A shark crack echoed through the room, and Draco clutched his slapped cheek, blood trickling down from where Lucius's ring had cut into his flesh. Lucius grabbed Draco's wrist, holding so hard that Draco knew there would be bruises there by the morning_

_"How _**dare**_ you speak to me like that, how _**dare**_ you use that language in front of me!" he roared, hitting Draco again, and Draco quickly lost his flare of anger fuelled bravery, cowering as his father struck him again_

_ "You're a disgrace to my family name you little whore. You are no longer my son" Lucius spat, "Draco Lucius Malfoy, you a hear by stripped of your title as heir, your rights to the Malfoy fortune, and you may never step foot in any of the manors or Malfoy properties again"  
Magic crackled in the air around Lucius, and Draco felt suddenly drained, and very tired. He moaned and collapsed on his bed, shaking as the blood magic worked its way through his body, draining him completely of energy. Lucius strode out of the room in a swirl of black robes, not bothering to give Draco a last glance. Draco watched him leave, the sides of his vision blurring, and he tried to remember exactly _when_ everything had started to go so wrong. _

_ Lucius brushed the soot from his robe as he stepped out of the fireplace. Avery was already sat in one of the armchairs, looking expectant_

_"You said you were calling in a favour Malfoy?" he grunted, _

_"Yes. I need a boy killed, a Hogwarts student, an easy task I'm sure"_

_"Any particular reason?" Avery smirked "Or is it just a longing for things to be like the old days?"_

_"If this boy lives, then the Malfoy name may be in ruins before I can say Merlin. He knows something he shouldn't, and I wont risk using a memory charm. He's to be killed"  
Avery mock saluted and left the manor with a twisted smile on his face, looking like a hungry wolf just promised a full course meal. _

* * *

"Love, where did these come from?" Madam Pomfrey tutted, studying the bruises on Draco's arm

"I…fell. Yesterday." Draco stuttered, keeping his eyes fixed on the floor. The nurse frowned but nodded, helping the young man to stand, holding one of his hands with a small smile

"Alright dear, I want to see you back here over the next few weeks so as I can check your weight gain. Really, it isn't healthy to be so thin."  
Draco nodded, smiling slightly as she fussed over him, and she gave his hand one last squeeze before leading him out of his room, through the main ward, and to the doors that led to the outside world.  
"Thank you" Draco nodded, and the nurse walked away with a small smile. Draco pushed the door open, and prepared himself to face the outside world, no longer a Malfoy, no longer a prince of Slytherin, no longer respectable. One thought ran through Draco's mind. _Fan-fucking-tastic_

Draco Black – having taken his mother's maiden name as a last name now – was shaking. He took deep breaths, trying to control his fears, telling himself that they were only Slytherins, and the worst they could do was…Shit, Draco knew that the worst they could do was pretty damn bad. He stepped into the great hall, feeling all eyes lock on him, and tried very hard not to collapse from the terror running through him.

"Did you father _really_ disinherited you Draco?" Pansy sneered, as Draco began his walk down the Slytherin table and Draco rose one eyebrow, looking bored, and walking past the girl with an air of not caring

"You as penniless as a Weasley now then Draco?" a young Slytherin yelled, and Draco sent him a deathly glare

"Merlin, how low can you sink? He's lucky his mother allowed him to keep her name, I certainly wouldn't"  
Draco ignored the comments hissing around him, this had to be done. He had to show the snakes of the school that he was immune to their venom. He kept his head held high, walking past the students, and taking a seat at the end of the table, picking at the small plate of food in front of him. He wanted to make sure that he ate now, not wanting to upset Madame Pomfrey by making her find that he wasn't gaining weight. For some reason, he longed to please the nurse, as he had longed to please his father as a small child. He had enjoyed it when Madam Pomfrey had treated him like a child during his recovery, he enjoyed the feeling of warmth that he felt inside whenever the nurse had made a fuss over him for getting closer to recovery, or shown him affection in small ways that others wouldn't even take notice of, like when she patted his hand when he looked worried, or brushed his hair from his eyes, or put extra blankets on his bed when she noticed that he was cold. She had a motherly nature about her, and Draco enjoyed being cared for. He glanced over at the Gryffindor table where Potter sat, laughing with his friends, his emerald eyes shining brightly, his hand occasionally running through his unruly hair, which Draco found himself longing to fix. He smiled at the thought. Draco wondered if he had come to enjoy the young man's company. He had come to expect Potter to be in his hospital room, he had always felt a flutter in his stomach whenever he heard the door open, and had always felt slightly disappointed when the-boy-who-lived left, a feeling of loneliness always overcoming him. He tried to tell himself that he only felt that way because of the loss of his so-called "friends" that he just missed human company, but deep down, Draco knew that this wasn't true. Draco Black, the gay, suicidal ex-death eater and ex-Malfoy heir, was in love with the one and only Boy-Who-Lived. Emerald eyes met his suddenly, and Draco found himself on his feet, leaving the great hall and beginning to run once he was out of the hall, running from Harry Potter, from unwanted love, and from the truth which, if Potter ever found out, would undeniably get Draco's heart broken.

**Drakey boy, you poor thing *hugs Draco* Kind of short, I know...sorry about that. I have now officially changed this story to a Harry/Draco, because I absolutely _love_ them together!  
Please leave a review, or Draco might start crying again (and no-one wants to see our dear old Draco cry do we?)**


	15. Chapter 15

**A/N: Sorry about the wait! I'd like to say a H_-UGE _thank you to Caelyn, who's review made me really focus on what needed improving, and I've tried working on it in this chapter, and will also do so in the future, thanks, I really appreciate critical reviews  
**

A slight breeze tickled the grass around the lake, causing a chill to run through the only figure who remained outside. The sun was slowly dropping, turning the sky a warm orange, with soft, pink clouds streaked across it. Draco sat by the Black Lake, skipping stones across the water, watching as the stone skidded across the glass like surface of the lake, ripples spreading through the water, destroying the illusion. Draco leaned back against the tall beech tree that stood by the water's edge, not sure why he had come to the lake. He couldn't even remember his journey here, his feet had simply led him to the spot, and Draco had decided to stay, better that than returning inside where the taunts of the school would follow him endlessly, and where Potter would be waiting. Potter. Draco sighed, shaking his head, wondering what on earth had caused him to fall in love with Harry Potter. The boy had questioned him, annoyed him, found out his most inner secrets, accused him of murder, and been his enemy for the past seven years. So why was he in love with the git? Perhaps because the golden boy was the only one who had given him a second chance after the war? Or the fact that, when Draco had tried to suffer in silence, Harry had been the one to try and help him through it? Maybe because Draco was so used to being avoided now, it was nice to finally have someone who was glad to talk to him like a person, rather than a rat? Or maybe it was because Draco, who hated himself so much that it pained him to look himself in the mirror anymore, liked the feeling that someone else cared about him. Draco hugged his knees to his chest, throwing his last stone with furious tears burning in his eyes, and it landed with a loud splash in the middle of the lake, sinking beneath the black water. Draco didn't understand anything anymore. He didn't want to be in love with Potter, he didn't want to be gay, he didn't want to be disowned, and he wasn't even sure if he wanted to be alive. There was a constant dull ache in his chest, and he often woke up crying, not understanding why, wondering why, when his life was so awful, his dreams had to be the same. Draco allowed a choked sob to escape him, and soon, he was fully sobbing, his cries echoing across the school grounds.

Draco woke with a groan, his body aching. He had accidentally spent the night outside, having cried himself to sleep, and was now freezing. A few birds had been brave enough to land near him, but quickly fluttered away when Draco sat up, feeling his back crack as he did so. Checking his watch, Draco knew that he had missed first period, and that students would be half-way through their second lesson by now. Draco was suddenly saddened by the thought that, though he had failed to show up after more than twelve hours, no-one had come looking for him. He didn't expect it of his house-mates, they no longer cared whether he lived or died, but his thoughts lingered on Harry, wondering why _he_ hadn't come looking for him. Draco pushed the thoughts away with a scowl. It wasn't like they were really _friends_, then maybe he should expect it of the golden boy. Or maybe if they were in a relationship. Maybe if Harry spent the evenings in Draco's private dorm, and whispered sweet-nothings in his ear whilst his hands slowly slid over his body and –  
"Fuck" Draco shook the thought from his head. The fact was, he was not in a relationship with Potter, nor was he friends with him, so he shouldn't – _wouldn't – _ waste his time playing the damsel in distress, waiting for Potter to come find him. Draco stood, swallowed a thick lump that had risen in his throat, dusted himself off, and made his way back up to the castle, ignoring the dull ache that had made its way back into his chest as he thought of Potter.

* * *

Harry sighed, not entirely concentrating on the notes he was jotting down, knowing that he really _should_ be paying attention to Professor Slughorn, but unable to do so, his thoughts on Draco. He hadn't seen the Slytherin in his DADA class that morning, and his mind kept replaying the moment a few months ago when he had found Draco close to death on the floor of an empty room. Harry tried to shake the image from his mind, but was unable to, knowing that it was very much a possibility that Draco might attempt to kill himself again, what with his father disowning him, and Harry running into his room accusing him of murder. Harry sunk lower in his chair, knowing that what he had done had been rash and idiotic, that there was no way Draco would have Graze killed, even after what he _did_ to Draco. When the blonde had tried to kill Dumbledore, he had started to lower his wand…he wasn't capable of murder. He wasn't a monster like his father, like everyone expected him to be. Harry took in a long, deep breath, knowing that he had a lot to make up for.

Draco wasn't sure how long he had been standing there. It could have been a few minutes or a few hours, he didn't care which. He'd meant to go to class, to jog into the lesson, mutter an apology, and try to catch up on what he'd missed…but for some reason, his feet had had other ideas. Draco was stood outside of his special room, frowning at the sight of the dried blood on the floor, wondering why it hadn't yet been cleaned up. He imagined how he must have looked, lying on the floor, drenched in his own blood, a pathetic sight that would repulse anyone really. He stepped into the room carefully, as if afraid to disturb it. The door shut behind him with a low creak, and he slid to the floor with a sigh, wondering how he had fallen so far in just a year. He was no longer a Malfoy, he no longer had any money, or a place to live, or a family…though what he had before could hardly be defined as a family, families tended to involve love, and the Malfoy had never know such an emotion to pass through its walls. Draco wondered what he would do without any money. He'd have to get a job, that was obvious, but no-one would hire him fresh out of school, especially an ex-death eater fresh out of school, and if they did, the pay would never be decent enough for him to be able to rent even a small flat in Knockturn Alley…Draco shuddered at the thought of living in such a place. Maybe his mother would give him some money, she seemed so intent on having him on her side, she'd do anything to make Draco like her more. Draco sighed, shaking his head, wondering how on earth he'd manage after graduation.

"What are you doing up here?" came a quiet voice, and Draco looked up, startled to see Harry standing in the doorway, having opened the door without Draco noticing. Draco shifted slightly, and moved his eyes to the floor. He didn't want to be around the boy who had accused him of murder, who had basically called him his father, when Draco knew he could never become something so great or so terrible as Lucius Malfoy.

"What do you want Potter?" he muttered, watching a minuscule spider totter along the floor and scrambled up onto his shoe

"You didn't show up for class"

"And?"

Harry sighed, of course Draco would be stubborn with him, hell, Harry deserved it after what he'd said to Draco.

"I just wanted to be sure you were alri–"

"I'm fine" Draco snapped, "I don't need St. Potter checking up on me, alright?"

Harry's eyes narrowed, Draco had every right to be angry, but Harry was not used to having to keep his patience with the blonde.

"Alright." He paused for a moment, "They never cleaned up the blood then?"

Draco looked up, surprised at how casually Harry had said it, but quickly dropped his gaze again as he began to loose himself in the emerald eyes of the young wizarding hero.

"No. They didn't."

Harry waited for him to say more, but it seemed that Draco was done with the conversation for now. He stood in the doorway for a few more moments before turning, and leaving the Slytherin to drown in his own thoughts. He knew Draco was stubborn, obnoxious and spiteful…but he was also beaten, tired and broken, and Harry knew that, though it would be a long, gruelling journey, he would be the one to fix the fallen prince.

**Please tell me about any mistakes, and review, _review review_! I write for me, I update for you!  
**


	16. Chapter 16

**A/N: Heeeey ^_^ Aw, I know you guys don't like long paragraphs with no speech, and I've tried to put _some_ in, but there wasn't a lot I could do. Still, Draco's really sweet in this chapter, will that make you forgive me?**

Draco stared blankly at his packed trunk, feeling a slight pang knowing that, though he was leaving school for half-term, he would not be returning to the manor. He would never be allowed to return. Though he had spent may years in the manor being terrified, beaten and verbally abused, it was still his childhood home, and it held fond memories, few though they may be. Earlier that week, his mother had sent him a letter explaining that she had a small cottage in Winterbourne that had been left to her by her cousin, and she wanted Draco to stay there. Lucius may hate his only child, but Narcissa still cared about her dragon, something she may not have shown a lot whilst Draco had been growing up, but a fact he was grateful for now. Narcissa was not a strong woman when it came to her husband, but you could hardly blame her. Lucius was a controlling, vicious ex- death eater, who wasn't afraid to take what he wanted. If Narcissa had ever tried to meddle with his raising of Draco, she would have been in serious need of expert healers. Along with the letter, Narcissa had sent Draco a small purse full of galleons, and informed him that she had sent the things from his room to the cottage. Draco knew that his mother was risking a lot by helping him. His father would be furious with her should he discover that she was helping their disgrace of a son, Lucius wanted nothing to do with Draco. When Narcissa had sent Draco's things to the cottage, she had told her husband that she was clearing out the room so as she could convert it into a study, as she had always had a fondness for the room. Draco would rather his mother took his room than it was left for time to destroy, or for his father to house one of his whores in.

Harry tried not to roll his eyes as he watched Ron and Hermione loose themselves in a battle-of-the-tongues-kiss. He didn't mind that they were a couple, he was happy for them, but he doubted very much that they needed to prove that fact by spending every minute of the day kissing. He glanced away from the pair, and scanned the crowd of students who, like himself, were waiting for the train to arrive. He spotted Ginny was being pushed up against a wall by yet another new boyfriend, and scowled. She hadn't taken it well when Harry had told her that, after loosing so many people in the war, he wasn't ready for a relationship yet. He needed things to calm down, he needed to sort his life out before he got involved with anyone. Since he had told the red-head this, she had been out with more boys that Harry could count, and he wasn't sure if she was trying to make him jealous, or if he was simply seeing the real Ginny for the first time. Looking away from the now moaning couple, he saw Neville, Luna, and the Patil twins, all smiling as Neville showed them his newest plant, some sort of prickly purple flower that liked to chew on shoes, as Harry had discovered when he had woken up one morning to find his trainers half-way inside the retched plant. Near the foursome, Dean and Seamus stood, smiling dreamily at each other, holding each others hands. The two had come out shortly after the war had ended, and were madly in love, more so than even Ron and Hermione. Harry grinned at Seamus when he turned and caught his eye, and Seamus grinned back, before Dean caught his attention, saying something which made the Irish boy's grin widen. A group of first years ran past the couple, throwing spells at each other, all laughing, excited to finally be going home. One of the first years suddenly tripped over an older student's cloak, and Harry watched as Draco Black turned to scowl at the child, before taking the girl's hand and gently pulled her to her feet, saying something to her with a small smile. Harry was surprised at this, knowing that the old Draco would have called the child a brat and most likely hexed her away from him. But then, that Draco hadn't lived through a war, a rape, and being disowned. Harry noticed that no-one stood near Draco, and now that the young girl was gone, he had begun to simply stare at the ground, and resumed sitting on his trunk, hunched over slightly. Harry suddenly wondered who the boy would sit with on the train. Not anyone from his own house, surely? And where would he be staying, now that his father had disowned him? Harry shook the thoughts from his head. What did it matter to him where the Slytherin was staying? Draco had said it himself, he didn't need his help, he didn't _want_ his help.

Draco scowled as a first year girl tripped over his robe. The clumsy little brat looked up at him, terrified, obviously expecting a wave of hexes to be thrown at her. But Draco didn't want to hurt the girl. She was a child, who had been having fun with her friends, he couldn't punish her for such an innocent thing could he? Gently, he pulled her to her feet, saying with a small smile

"Careful little one, you don't want an injury right before the holidays"

The girl returned the smile and ran off to join her friends. Draco let the smile fade quickly, sitting down on his trunk and staring at the ground, wondering absent-mindedly if his mother had remembered to send his cuddly theastral from when he was a child along with his things. He felt eyes on him, and turned, scanning the sea of students until he spotted Potter staring at him. Draco nodded to him, the ghost of a smile on his lips, and then turned away, wondering where the boy would be staying during the holidays…Draco shook the thoughts from his head, firmly telling himself that he didn't care where the Gryffindor prat was staying.

When Draco arrived at Melancholia cottage in Winterbourne, he realised how well the cottage suited its name. The whole place looked so depressing, like it had given up on trying…like it was made to reflect Draco. The gate was rusty, and needed to be shoved open, the front door was falling off its hinges, and once he had stepped inside, Draco saw that the house was covered in dust and grime, and mould and…something Draco was quite sure he didn't want to touch. He grimaced as a rat ran past his feet. Setting his trunk down in what he decided would become the sitting room, he pulled out his wand and pointed it at the door, fixing it with a flick. He'd have to clean the house, put up security wards, make sure the floo network was secure, get furniture, possibly put on extension spells, get rid of whatever was causing that awful stench, find out what had caused the damp patch in the ceiling, fix the rat problem, and all that would have to wait until he had found Aaricia.

***mini A/N: Aaricia, pronounced ****are-ree-cee-ah*******

_- you'll have to share the house with Aaricia. She was your second cousin, but her father killed her when she was just four. He didn't want a mute child. She's ever so sweet, but be careful not to upset her, and do make sure you ask her where the bedroom is. Just call for her, and she should come._

Draco remembered his mother's words from her letter well, and, feeling very stupid, he put his trunk down and called out

"Aaricia?"

For a moment, nothing happened, and Draco blushed, feeling an idiot. Then, suddenly, a child stood in front of him, looking startled at Draco's presence. The girl was very young, no older than four at the most, with large, round eye that may once have been blue, but now, like the rest of her, were an strange, shimmering silver. She wore a long, plain, but expensive dress, but her feet were bare, and she was clutching a ragged, worn teddy. It was easy to see that her hair had been as black as midnight at one point, and she had been a very beautiful child with flawless skin, but for the single scar that marred her perfect face. It ran from the point of her left temple straight down her face, until it met her jaw, and it curved round with it, ending before the tip of her chin.

"Aaricia" Draco called cautiously "where is the bedroom?" Draco could easily find it himself, the cottage had only one floor, but his mother had said to ask Aaricia, and his mother had always been smart when it came to ghosts. Besides, Draco knew that it was always important to get along with the spirits of the house. Aaricia looked wearily at Draco, carefully stepping back, half her face now hidden behind her long curtain of hair, and she was shaking. Draco had never seen a ghost shake before, and as he watched her, he wondered if they could cry. Whether they could or not, the girl looked like she was about to anyway. Draco crouched down, smiling softly, trying to reassure the ghost child he would be sharing his new home with

"Don't worry Aaricia, I wont…" He wouldn't what? Hurt her? How would one go about hurting a ghost anyway? "It's alright. I know what your father did to you, but he's gone now, he's been gone a long time." A thought suddenly occurred to Draco "How long ago did your brother die Aaricia?"

The girl held up five fingers, and Draco frowned.

"Five years? The house can't have become this bad in just five years and your brother couldn't have – "

Draco cut off, seeing that Aaricia was shaking her head, holding up ten fingers now, flashing them at Draco five times, and the blonde nodded, now understanding "You've been all alone for fifty years?" The girl nodded, a saddened look on her face, and Draco felt immense pity towards her. Killed by her father because of her disability, left on her own after her brother had died fifty years ago, her parents having been murdered about twenty-five years before by a mad old witch they had cheated out of a horse, or so Draco had been told. Aaricia looked at him with a small, shy smile, a hopeful look on her face, and she nodded towards him. Draco understood what she was silently asking, and smiled back.

"Yes, I'll be staying now. I've got to go back to school, but I'll come back during the holidays, and by the summer, I'll be living here fully."

Aaricia seemed cheered by the thought of someone living in her home once more, and beckoned for Draco to follow her before she skipped out of the sitting room, down the hallway, and stopped in front of a large, heavy, oak door. She watched as Draco turned the handle of the door, and stepped into the bedroom, the little ghost girl following him.

Over the next few days, Draco set about fixing his new home. The bedroom was clean already, his mother had fixed up his room when she had sent Draco's things, and he was very grateful to see that she had brought his bed, otherwise he'd have to make due with a pile of blankets on the floor, for the house was empty, but for the things his mother had left, a large, old fashion gas stove in the kitchen, and a rotten old cot he'd found in the attic, which Aaricia had spent a long time looking at, and when Draco tried to get rid of it, she had looked heartbroken. Draco had ended up fixing the old thing up and putting it in the corner of his bedroom, where Aaricia would happily stay whilst Draco slept. She seemed rather attached to the cot, and Draco was quite sure that it must have been hers before she had died. As Draco worked, Aaricia would watch him, happy for the company, and Draco would talk to her whilst he worked, not really caring that the girl couldn't speak back. She's sometimes make hand gestures, but that was about it.

"Done" Draco grinned, looking around proudly at the now clean kitchen. It had been the hardest to clean, and he'd found a rats nest behind the stove – which Draco discovered wasn't actually as black as it had first looked, but once clean, was actually closer to grey – but now, his house was finally free of filth. He grinned down at Aaricia

"Nice, isn't it?"

The girl nodded happily, and Draco knew that she'd be crushed when he went back to school. He tried not to think about that, he often considered not going back at all, but he knew that could never be an option, his mother couldn't keep giving him money, and he needed a decent job, one he'd only get if he had NEWT qualifications. With a sigh, Draco left the kitchen and headed to the bedroom, the little ghost girl following him, her smile still in place as she floated after her new friend.

* * *

**The idea of an abused little ghost girl in this story has been in my head for a while now, I couldn't help but have her haunt Draco's cottage! I'd like to thank my friend Jay for giving me the idea for the cottage's name, great isn't it? Anyways, please tell me about any mistakes, and pretty please review! A lot of people have this on their story alerts - for which I'm _very_ grateful - but please leave a review as well, I want to know what you think!  
**


	17. Chapter 17

**A/N: It's been 41 days since I last updated... feel free to torture me for my lack of updates! I'm so so so so so so _so_ SORRY! I had writer's block for quite a while, and then I just sort of ... forgot? *winces* SORRY...sorry...**sorry

Harry sighed, turning his pillow over, trying to get to sleep. His mind was constantly wondering to thoughts of Draco, images of the blonde sleeping in a ditch, or being attacked on the street. Harry found himself worrying… but he knew he shouldn't. Draco didn't want or need his help, the fragile friendship - if you could even call it that - they had built had been shattered, because, as usual, Harry had run in head first, not thinking, and accused Draco of murder. Murder! How Harry had even considered it, it was beyond him. But then, the stress of the war, of loosing so many of his loved ones, Remus, Tonks, Fred, Collin…Harry blinked back tears at the memory of the broken child he had seen being laid down with the rest of the dead…it had done things to Harry's mind. He wasn't the same anymore, he had seen death too many times for a boy of eighteen…because that was all he was, a boy, not the man everyone thought of him as, not the wizarding hero they all wanted a picture with, just a boy. And when he had found Draco, lying bleeding and helpless, he knew that the blonde, who had gone through nearly as much as he had, was also, just a boy.

Draco woke screaming, tangled in his bed sheets, his hands flailing uselessly, a cold sweat covering his body, causing him to shiver violently. He flicked his trembling hand, and the lamps lit, illuminating the room, allowing Draco to scan the place. He knew he was being stupid, he knew that Graze was dead, and that he couldn't get him now, could never touch him again. But he was so sure he had felt hands on his body, cold and silky, almost like a cobweb. That's when he spotted Aaricia cowering in the corner, her eyes wide and frightened, tears spilling down her cheeks, dropping onto the floor and melting like snow flakes, leaving no trace behind. He must have been having a nightmare, and when the child had tried to wake him up, it had only terrified him more.

Aaricia shook against the wall, terrified. She knew that her new friend couldn't hurt her, as she was a ghost, but even if he could, he wouldn't. Draco would never hurt her, he understood the pain she had lived through, he had lived through it too, though his father had been more sparing than her own, he had not resorted to killing him. Although, perhaps death would have been kinder than forcing him to live through such pain for seventeen years. Draco had been having a nightmare, he'd been muttering and thrashing, and when she'd tried to wake him up, it had only terrified him more. He'd screamed, his hands flying out, rushing towards Aaricia's body, and she'd been so scared, the familiar movement of hands, as if he were trying to hit her, just as her father had always done. She had run, despite knowing that her punishment was always been worse when she ran from her father…but a part of her made her stop, a part of her which gently reminded her that her father was dead, and that Draco was here now, Draco, who loved her more than her father ever had, and would never _dream_ of hurting her. Aaricia slowly floated back to Draco, hovering over his bed, frowning questioningly.

"Just a bad dream" Draco muttered, trying to reassure her, his smile not reaching his eyes. Wiping away his tears angrily, Draco climbed out of bed going through his trunk, and pulling out Thanatos, his cuddly Theastral, hugging the stuffed toy close to his chest. It smelt of candle wax, and pine wood, and his mother's perfume. Fresh tears began streaming down his cheeks, and Draco hugged Thanatos closer to him, quietly humming an old nursery rhyme that his mother used to sing to him, his voice breaking at some points as his tears grew thicker. He was all alone in a depressing little cottage, in a rotten muggle town, with no-one to talk to but a mute ghost. Climbing back under the covers, Draco threw his duvet over his head, curling up into a tight ball, his face buried against Thanatos, the soft cotton of the toy's wings catching his tears, as Draco cried himself to sleep.

Draco woke feeling groggy, his eyes hurt, his throat felt raw, and his head was pounding. Rolling out of bed, he stumbled into the tiny bathroom that connected to the room, and jumped when saw a repulsive creature in the cracked mirror above the sink. The boy in the mirror looked at him with cold, dead eyes, his face, which had once been handsome, had become an ugly mask of hate and anger, of pain and suffering, of confusion, love, lust and loss. His white-blonde hair was tinted with grey streaks, the once thick, velvety hair was now lank and lifeless. What had been a perfect, toned body was now a skeletal mess of scars and bruises, some of which had been done by his own hand, some by others…

Draco turned away from the mirror in disgust, moving back to his room, grabbing a pair of scissors from the side table, attacking his hair with them. Aaricia watched sadly as her broken angel began attacking his locks with scissors, cutting off odd chunks of it, fresh tears streaking down his face, his breath trembling. The collection of hair on the floor grew more and more, until Draco finally threw the scissors away from him, collapsing onto the floor, sobbing. Aaricia floated to the broken boy, wondering if her beautiful angel was slowly going mad from the depression.

Harry felt his eyes droop as he watched the station begin to move out of view. The train had just started moving out of Kings Cross station, back to Hogwarts, and Harry hoped that the four hour journey would give him a chance to catch up on lost sleep. The hum of talk buzzed around him as his friends swapped stories of what they got up to in their week off, but no-one bothered the drowsy Boy-Who-Lived. Blackness soon enfolded Harry, and he drifted through haunted memories filled with screams, terrified screams that always rang in his ears, desperate, useless cries for loved ones that were never heard, dead eyes that stared at Harry, that never stopped staring. Harry woke with a gasp, his face pale, a cold sweat covering his body. Questioning eyes fell on him, but before he could be questioned, Harry hurried out of the compartment, muttering something unintelligible about needing the loo. He stumbled up the corridor, pushing open the door to the loos, moving to the sink and splashing cold water onto his face. Taking long, steadying breaths, Harry tried to control his shaking hands, closing his eyes and concentrating only on his breathing. In, and out. In, and out. In, and –

Something moved next to him, and Harry spun round, finding himself staring into curious grey eyes.

"Draco…what have you done to yourself?" Harry breathed, staring at the boy in shock. Draco felt ice pierce his heart at Harry's horrified stare. But then, it only confirmed what he knew, he was repulsive, and someone like Harry deserved so much more than a broken prince.

* * *

**Thank you to** **x. shooting. star who helped me to get past my writer's block, though I'm not sure that I managed to slow things down a lot... Now, can I please please pretty please have some reviews? And not just "Update quicker" because I know I need to! Also, one last little note, thank you to xmcrx who I was able to make cry...hurray! Please tell of any mistakes, no matter how small**

**Love and cream cakes**

**Violet  
**


	18. Chapter 18

**A/N: Hmm, should I update faster with shorter chapters, or take longer and give you long long long chapters? I think the shorter chapters option sounds better...what do you lot think? ****Reviews are much ****appreciated!**

**Oops, just realized how long it's been since I put in a disclaimer...10 chapters actually...just edited this chapter to throw one in**

**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the characters, I'm just borrowing them for angst-alicious fun! ^_^ **

* * *

_"Such a beautiful boy you are Draco" _

_Draco looked up from his book to see his grandmother peering down at him, her worn, old eyes watching him carefully, a kind smile on her face._

_ "So like your father…but with your mother's softer side" a wrinkled hand stroked his cheek "Not as sharp a face, not as much…coldness. Such a beautiful boy. You'll be having all the girls after you when you start Hogwarts" she ruffled his hair affectionately before returning her attention to the rest of the room. _

Draco wondered what his grandmother would say if she could see him now, his hair in ruins, his once beautiful face scarred from too many haunted memories, and, whilst all of the female _and_ male population of the school hated him, he was pining after the savior of the wizarding world. The-_Boy_-Who-Lived. She was most likely rolling in her grave right now.

"_Draco?_" Harry stepped closer to Draco, who snapped out of his musings, staring into emerald green eyes "I–…what happened to you?" a hesitant hand reached out to touch the shredded silver locks, causing Draco flinched away. "Let me fix it Draco, please, you look …" Harry trailed off, not wanting to upset the boy anymore than he already had, but he saw that he had already said too much, and that tears were appearing in Draco's eyes, which the blonde scrubbed away angrily.

Draco knew what he looked like. His torn, ruined hair, he looked like an escaped mental patient. Like a freak. But Draco had always been a freak on the inside, a self-harming, cowardly, hideous little freak. And now the rest of the world could know, know what sort of person had hidden behind his perfect looks. Why should he hide the truth from a world that already hated him? What difference would it make now, that he had nothing to lose?

_You do have something to lose, _a voice in his head nagged, _You've got Harry. He wants to help, he wants to make things better._

But he didn't have Harry. And even if he _did,_ how could he fix Draco's life now that it was in tatters? Tears burned in Draco's eyes, which he quickly wiped away, a scowl on his face. He glanced back to Harry, who was looking at him, worry written all over his face. Silly Gryffindor, wearing his heart on his sleeve.

"What made you run in here?" Draco asked quietly "You look…what's wrong?"

Harry's eyes had darkened, and for once, Draco saw a similarity between them. That disturbed, lost look in Harry's eyes, the same one that haunted Draco's face everyday, shining in Harry's emerald eyes. Draco wanted nothing more than to banish the pain in those striking eyes, wanted to reach out and comfort the young man, wanted to kiss away the heart-ache that had followed Harry since the war, wanted to make it all better with fairy kisses and lifelong embraces, whispers of sweet-nothings, caresses of pure love that would make Harry forget every haunted memory of the war…but he couldn't. He never could.

"Just…some bad memories" Harry muttered, and Draco nodded, understandingly

"You'll have to learn to live with them I suppose" Draco whispered "We all will." His voice broke on his last sentence, flashes of memories, of muggle children screaming in pain on the floor of what was once his home. Many had been younger than the first year students. A warm, comforting hand was on his shoulder, and Draco this time, did not flinch away, realizing how much he had missed human contact. For a while, it had terrified him. One touch, and memories of Graze would flash through his mind. But Harry was different. Draco felt a sense of security with the boy's touch, his heart sped up, but not in fear, not like with others. A thrill ran through him, and when that hand began to slip away from his shoulder, Draco couldn't stop himself. He caught the hand with his own, twining his fingers with Harry's, a small smile gracing his lips. The warmth of the other hand a wonderful feeling against his ice-cold skin. A spark had run through Draco as soon as their skin had touched, and now it felt as if his whole body was floating, the worry and hurt and pressure of the world forgotten, and it was just he and Harry. After a moment, Harry lifted his wand and ran it over Draco's hair – which was a hard task, considering that Draco was at least half a head taller than him – and there was a slight tug as the blonde locks began to grow once more.  
"It looks nicer long" Harry muttered, a dazed expression on his face. Draco smiled at the other boy, who suddenly blushed furiously, and, with an awkward, half-smile, he quickly left the loos, half falling through the door. Draco let out a small chuckle, and shook his head. Trust him to fall in love with a total klutz.

Harry ran a hand through his hair, letting out a long sigh. He wasn't sure what had just happened. His hand was still tingling from holding Draco's own, and it smelt of Draco, of sandalwood, and rain, and apples…Harry smiled, his heart beating double pace, and he found himself longing to go back into the loos, to have Draco smile at him again, that shy, loving smile that he had given him. Harry hadn't seen Draco smile in so long, the pain of what the Slytherin had been through was too much for there to be any reason for him to smile. But he had. And that smile had been for_ him_.  
"Harry, are you alright? You were gone for so long we were getting worried." Ginny smiled, coming round the corner, looking relieved. Ginny. He shouldn't be thinking of Draco so much, he had Ginny, Ginny who loved him, and who he loved…but not like she did. Everyone expected Harry to be with Ginny, but the girl was much more a sister to him than a lover. People had questioned why he hadn't got back together with her since the end of the war, and Harry had muttered about not wanting to be with anyone at the moment, that the memories of the war were too much for him. Ginny slipped her hand into his, the same hand that Draco had held, and Harry frowned, hoping that the smell of Draco would not disappear to be replaced by the sharp, overbearing scent of Ginny's perfume. Once back in their compartment, Harry smiled and nodded and laughed just as he was supposed to, trying to listen to his friend's stories, but his thoughts kept wondering back to Draco, and Harry wondered if he was still in the loos. He didn't exactly have friends to sit with anymore did he? Harry sighed, and flexed his hand, the ghost of Draco's touch lingering on it.

Draco turned the page of his book letting out a small sigh, the sound of rustling paper shattering the heavy silence in the compartment. Blaise Zambini and Theodore Nott may not have liked Draco, but they neither disliked him either, and so found no harm in allowing him to sit in their compartment, it wasn't as if he were disrupting anything anyway. Blaise had been carefully going over his star charts – which littered the table in between the two benches – occasionally muttering about clutters of stars being wrong, or biting his lip when he couldn't remember the name of certain stars. Meanwhile, Theodore was sat with his head buried in an advanced arithmancy book, letting out the occasional cough, but otherwise making no sound, except for the turning of his book's pages, just like Draco. Draco, whilst it looked as though he was studying a NEWT level potions book, was reading an old muggle book which he had found in the village by his cottage whilst food shopping. The village had been very small, consisting of a small supermarket named Tescos (Draco wondered why muggles had such stupid names for things) a bakery, a bank, a post office, and a book shop. After buying his food – and figuring out what muggle money was worth – Draco had wondered into the book shop, and spotted a section on William Shakespeare, whom he knew to be a famous muggle author, though his father had often said that the man had been a squib, disowned from the Purebeck family and left to be raised by muggles. After skimming through a few titles, Draco had decided upon _Romeo & Juliet_, and, before returning to school, had placed a charm over it, so as no-one would know that he enjoyed reading muggle books (the thought made Draco cringe every time) But he did enjoy the book, in fact, he loved it. Poor little Juliet, with her cold, harsh father who denied her her true love. And Romeo, the man willing to risk his life just to be with her. Draco smiled wryly, knowing that he'd only picked the book because he sympathized so well with it. He supposed that this made him the damsel in distress… "O Romeo, Romeo, wherefore art thou Romeo?" he read over the line, and suppressed a bitter laugh. Romeo was in his compartment, with that little weaslett, and the other idiotic Gryffindors that he called friends. But perhaps there was still a chance. Draco had not yet read the end of the book, perhaps it had a happy ending.

* * *

**I wouldn't count on it Draco.  
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	19. Chapter 19

**A/N: Yes...I _know_ it's taken forever, but I've had exams, and writers block, and am trying to plan a surprise party and...oh, and just everything! But still, I apologize for taking so long. Thank you to x. shooting .star for a) giving me a kick start again and cramming ideas into my head and b) Growling threateningly at me until I wrote. I'd also like to thank my shiny new beta, ****ItsAThinLine, for fixing up the chapter. It has taken me three bloody attempts to get this chapter up properly!  
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Harry moaned, his heartbeat drumming in his ears as he pounded into the body beneath him. He knew it was wrong, dirty, and _oh so_ naughty, but a sexy, moaning, Draco Malfoy pleading for him to go faster was enough to make him do, well, just about anything. A pink tongue darted out of Draco's mouth, lapping at the sweat that had begun to drip down Harry's body, and Harry moaned when he felt teeth latch onto his nipple.  
"_Merlin_ Draco!"  
"Mmm, Harry…Harry…_Harry…**Harry!**_"  
Harry's eyes snapped open, and he found himself looking up at the top of his four poster bed, Ron standing outside the closed curtains, yelling at him.  
"**Harry!** We're going to be late! Get up you lazy git before Slughorn decides to give us detention!"  
"Be out in a minute" Harry called, his voice breaking halfway through his sentence. He glanced down at his boxers, which were now a wet, sticky mess.  
"You go ahead…I'll...I'll be there soon" Harry needed some time to think about why he had just dreamed about…_that_…with Draco Malfoy in place of what had once been some faceless female. Harry swallowed, and decided that a shower was the first order of business, before he started thinking about Draco and his place in Harry's dreams.

~#~#~#~#~

Harry glanced over again to where Draco was working, watching as the Slytherin cut his beetle wing with careful, precise motions, every movement of his knife cautious and calculated, stormy grey eyes watching carefully. There was a fear of error that seemed to hold Draco whilst he worked, and it drove him to perfection more than any other student Harry had ever seen, even more than Hermione. And that was saying something. Memories of his dream kept flashing through his head, and when a long, pink tongue darted out to wet Draco's lips, Harry gasped, and then blushed furiously, tearing his gaze away from the Slytherin. Glancing at his own messily cut ingredients, Harry realized with a start that he had not started brewing, despite the fact that he had prepared his ingredients almost twenty minutes ago. Had he been watching Draco all of that time?

"Harry, what are you doing?" Hermione hissed, glaring at Harry's empty cauldron. Harry grinned sheepishly, and muttered about not feeling well, before setting to work on his potion, trying hard to resist the urge to glance over at Draco again.

Harry kept staring at him. Draco didn't need to look up to know that those were _his_ eyes burning holes in his back, forever trying to look him over, and Draco presumed that Harry had meant the gaze to merely be a quick, sly motion. But then, what did Gryffindors know about sly? Draco wet his lips as he concentrated on adding just the right amount of crushed mandrake leaves, when he heard a small gasp, and, glancing over to where Harry was working, saw that the boy had turned bright pink. Draco puzzled over this for a few minutes, before simply smiling to himself, and going back to work. The-Boy-Who-Lived was quite a mystery, and Draco had a feeling it would take more than a lifetime to figure him out completely. He finished up his potion, cleaned up his work space, and began making notes on the affects and uses of the potion. Some may have called Draco obsessive over school work, but then, those people had never had a father like his, forever demanding perfection. The class was soon dismissed, and Draco scowled as he recalled that his free period had been replaced with a visit to see the annoying little half-blood that wanted to dive into his head and talk to him about "feelings". Draco shuddered. Malfoy's, did not, talk about feelings, Blacks, did not talk about feelings, and Draco, most certainly, _did not _talk about feelings. There was simply no way getting around that fact. But, Madam Pomfrey had told him he had to go, after everything he'd put himself through, and even if it wasn't mandatory, Draco really couldn't find it in himself to say no to the caring little mediwitch. And so, with one final glance at Harry – who, when he caught Draco's eye, blushed and quickly turned away – Draco made his way up out of the dungeons, and towards Miss. Thompson's office.

~#~#~#~#~

Grace shifted in her seat once more, trying to keep her smile in place. Draco was stubborn, and quiet. And had she mentioned stubborn? It was not that he ignored her questions, oh no, Draco's manners were far too good to do such a thing. It was that he answered them with such cold politeness, that there was no way Grace could say he wasn't co-operating. She asked him to explain his answers in more depth, and he would simply repeat the line.  
"I'm afraid I can't." And the damned blonde knew that Grace wouldn't push him. The hour ticked by slowly, silence thick and heavy in the room, and Grace tried to push on with the questions.  
"I understand that you're no longer living with your parents, it seems that you and your father had some sort of…disagreement?"  
Draco nodded, eyes glittering hatefully, but said nothing. Grace took a deep breath, forced her smile back into place, and finally said in a cheery voice,  
"Well. You've done wonderfully today Draco, it's never easy talking about things like this, especially with a stranger. I'll see you on Wednesday, alright?"  
"Yes, thank you" Draco said, in that same cold, stiff voice. He stood, and left quickly, closing the door with a dull thud. Grace gave a long sigh, shaking her head.  
"Poor boy" she muttered, "Poor, poor boy."

~#~#~#~#~

Narcissa sighed, taking a long drink from her wine glass. She had wanted to go out tonight, a gorgeous twenty-something year old had been very eager to take her to the new restaurant in Chantilly called The Blaireau, and Narcissa simply adored France. But Lucius had been in a foul mood, and if she wasn't careful, Narcissa knew that she'd come home to find her rooms in ruins…again. But, she could still find peace in her library, and one of her more favoured house-elves had brought her a good glass of wine, which she found had a strange, yet wonderful taste. She was beginning to feel slightly light headed, which she thought odd, as she'd only had a glass, but, shrugging it off, Narcissa went back to her book, not noticing the figure standing just outside the room, peering through the crack between the two doors.

Lucius smirked as he watched his wife set her empty wine glass on the table next to her. She was a stupid woman, who fell easily for expensive or shiny things, and Lucius had found it far too easy to slip a vial of 'Obsequium*' into her drink, and have a house elf serve it to her. She hadn't even checked it for tampering, the foolish girl. He glanced at his watch, and decided that he had waited long enough. He gave the door a light push, and stepped inside, watching Narcissa's hazy eyes slowly focus on him, and she cleared her throat, shifting slightly in her seat, too dazed to speak.

"Stand." Lucius barked, and Narcissa scrambled to her feet, her book falling to the floor with a dull thud. Lucius's mouth twisted into a cold smirk, and beckoned for her to follow him out of the library, and into the master bedroom.

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**A/N: *****Obsequium is Latin for submission, for those wondering. I'll try to update more quickly next time**


	20. Chapter 20

**Hello my loves! Oh but am I in a happy mood, though I've no idea why. Then again, being able to curl up in bed, whilst writing about our dear little Draco _and_ watching that damn sexy Aragorn from Lord of The Rings kick ork ass whilst eating the last corneto would put anyone in a good mood ^_^ Anyways, thank you to ItsAThinLine for, once again, sorting out all my mistakes. Now, enjoy!**

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"Lucius?"

A silver eye slowly opened to find Narcissa standing by the bed, holding a large teatray, filled with food, a teapot, a cup and a plate. Lucius opened his other eye and sat up, beckoning his wife towards him, and having her lay it on his bedside table. Women were too easy. Well, women under submission potions were too easy. He reached for the teapot, before pausing and looking up at his wife.

"You didn't…make any of this yourself did you?"

"Oh no Lucius! The house-elves put it together." Narcissa took the teapot and poured out a steaming cup of tea, and Lucius nodded, taking the cup with a sigh.

"Good. You know how dreadful you are when it comes to cooking…or even putting hot water, tea leaves and milk together." The ex-Slytherin sneered, and Narcissa's face fell at her husband's words.

"Oh yes, I'm just _so_ dreadful, you must think me awful!" Narcissa moaned, kneeling down and beginning to butter Lucius some toast

"Mmm, I do" Lucius sipped from his tea, watching his wife finally stay in her rightful place. She was on her knees, serving him, accepting how unbefitting she was to be his wife. But, she would have to do. Lucius couldn't exactly leave her, or find a second wife…imagine the scandal! "Still, despite your obvious and _many_ faults, you are of use to me. Call a house elf and have the tray cleared away whilst I shower, then wait for me here. If you leave the room at all during my departure, you shall be punished." The ending threat was not needed, Narcissa would not dare defy Lucius's commands, but he still enjoyed watching the woman shiver with fear and nod frantically. "Good girl." he smiled patronizingly, and left his wife alone in the master bedroom.

* * *

"Come on, what's his name?" Harry asked with a cheeky smile, and Draco pretended to scowl, shoving the other boy's shoulder playfully. Trust Harry to walk in on him whilst he was curled up with Thanatos, trying to calm down after a terrible session with Grace. Draco had been in "his" room up on the seventh floor again, trying to figure out how the damned half-blood had managed to get memories of his father out of him so easily today. He was quite sure she had tricked him, or cursed him, or poisoned him…Draco refused to believe he had given up his secrets willingly. But the whole session had been a blur, and Draco had just wanted the woman to stop talking. So he'd spoken about beatings with his father, and once he began, Draco found that he could not stop.

* * *

_"How often would these beatings occur Draco?" Grace asked, looking – if it was even possible – both worried and relieved at the same time. Draco hesitated before saying,_

_"Whenever I misbehaved or failed to meet expectation in my social or academic life…though sometimes when father had had a bad day, he'd make up an excuse."_

_"And how old were you when they first started?"_

_Again, Draco hesitated, but this time it was not out of fear. He couldn't remember when they had started…it had always been that way. When Draco told Grace this, horror flashed in her eyes, but, trying to remain in her professional state, she quickly hid it, trying to regain her neutral expression._

_"I see. Did your mother not –" Grace stopped when she saw the familiar hardness in Draco's eyes, which meant that he wanted to stop for the day. She smiled, and told him he had done well, and then allowed him to leave. _

_

* * *

_

Draco didn't know where he stood with his mother anymore. She had always been rather distant, except for the few years during Draco's childhood when she had been there to comfort him after bad dreams. Narcissa had always been vacant during his life at the manor. But now, now that he was disowned, penniless and a social outcast, Narcissa wanted nothing more than to help him. Draco found his mother's behaviour very odd, and wondered if she was perhaps trying to make amends for not being there during his life.

"Draco? You can't get out of this by ignoring me you know." Harry grinned, pulling the blonde out of his thoughts. Draco mumbled something incoherent, and then stayed silent again, hugging his toy Thestral closer to him.

Harry sighed and glanced around, he was beginning to realize why Draco favoured this empty little room so much. It was quiet, and private, far from any main corridors and very hard to stumble across. No windows, meant there weren't any distractions, and that was exactly why Harry had come up here. He needed to sit and think about what he had been trying to avoid analysing for the past few weeks. At first, Harry had been quite sure that the dreams had meant nothing. Curiosity, an overactive imagination, too much sugar…he had reached for anything that might explain why he kept having dreams about Draco, writhing and begging beneath him. He was straight! He'd been out with loads of…well…he'd been out with three girls, and one of them had ended up crying – Harry shivered at the memory of his date with Cho Chang – and the other he had ignored at the Yule Ball all night. Not to mention that he'd never started things up again with Ginny.

_Who's side are you on?_ Hissed a voice in his head, and Harry scowled. _So I haven't had a serious relationship, that doesn't mean anything, I'm seventeen for Merlin's sake, and they're just _dreams, _they don't mean a thing! It's not like I'm in love with the guy or something!_

"Thanatos" Draco murmured, and Harry started at the voice. It took Harry a moment to realize what Draco was talking about.

"Thanatos?" he smiled, and cold, stormy eyes glared at Harry.

"_Yes_ Thanatos…what's wrong with that?" Draco, like most people, was very protective of his favourite childhood toy.

"Nothing, nothing" Harry said hurriedly, but he couldn't stop smiling. Draco looked unbelievably cute curled up with "Thanatos" … Harry tried to ignore that fact he had just thought of Draco as "cute"

"What are you doing in here anyway?" Draco asked, obviously slightly annoyed that someone else was occupying his room.

"I just thought I'd come here to…think. It's a nice room." Harry struggled through his reply, realizing how lame he must sound. Draco bit back his reply of "I didn't know you could think," Instead smiling and nodding, settling for,

"About what?" Draco leaned closer to Harry, watching the Golden Boy carefully as his cheeks flushed pink.  
"Oh, you know…just to think. Getting away from everything once in a while is nice."

"Sick of all your little...love-sick fan-girls?" Draco smirked, and Harry let out a strangled laugh, nodding.

"They become a bit of a hazard at times…I can't eat anything without checking it for hidden love potions now." Harry grinned stupidly.

"Poor Potter, how do you cope with all your adoring fans? It must be awful really, having the pick of any girl you want." Draco rolled his eyes, but he was still smiling, he enjoyed winding up his mad little lion.

"Mmm…sometimes I wonder if I should just –" throw you onto the floor, stick my tongue down your throat and shag you so hard that you don't remember your own name! "– um, get a girlfriend to stick by my side. You know, just so people back off a bit." Harry was blushing even more furiously now, wondering _where_ that little fantasy had come from.

"Well, have fun with that." Draco scowled suddenly, and Harry wondered if he had somehow upset the Slytherin. He couldn't think of what he had done to offend him so. Draco stood, muttering something about curfew, and left quick enough that Harry couldn't call him back.

"What did I do?" Harry murmured to himself, shaking his head. The little snake was quite a mystery, and he had a feeling it would take more than a lifetime to completely figure him out.

* * *

**A/N: I could _not_ resist putting Thanatos back in there, Draco and his theastral is just too cute! **

**What did you lot think? I wasn't 100% about this chapter...maybe I was a bit _too_ distracted by Aragorn's ork slaying ;)**


	21. Chapter 21

**I know, I know...it's late. But I did write this well over a month ago, the reason it's taken so long is that my lovely old internet got lost...in Tescos. Well, maybe not, but still, I had no internet, and for that, I apologise. BUT I have a lovely note to add before the chapter starts. After weeks of searching, I've finally found a horse to buy, and she's a lovely mare named...Hermione! Oh how my life is just ruled by Harry Potter everywhere I go! Anyway, on with the story ^_^**

**Thank you as always to ItsAThinLine for beta-ing my clumsy mistakes.**

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Draco tried hard to ignore the constant buzz of chatter around him as he sat, eating lunch in the great hall. Everyone was making plans for the upcoming Hogsmede trip, and Draco, though he enjoyed his visits to the little town, was having a hard time deciding on whether or not he ought to go. On the one hand, he could look like a loser, and go by himself, forcing himself to walk between the hundreds of groups of chattering friends, or, on the other, he could look like a loser, and stay at Hogwarts, all by himself, with only the first and second years for company. And to think, he had once been one of the people who had mocked people like himself. Fate, it seemed, was not without a sense of irony.

"– and Honeydukes has these new flavour changing lollypop which George says are ace, and I need some more sugar quills, and –"

"Honestly Ron, do you ever stop thinking about your stomach?" Hermione scowled, "We need to visit Flourish and Blotts before anything else, ever since you _ruined_ your copy of Advanced Potion Making at Christmas by setting it alight with that stupid test product of George's" Ron grinned sheepishly. "Harry, where would you like to go? … Harry? _Harry?_"

Harry jumped, his eyes snapping back to his friends, "Hmm? I don't mind, anywhere."

"You alright mate?" Ron asked cautiously, "You're acting weird, all jumpy, what do you keep looking at?" The red-head peered over Harry's shoulder, but saw only the Slytherin table, a very pale looking Malfoy sitting smack bang in the middle, his fellow students seeming to sit as far from him as possible. "Weird little git now, isn't he? Malfoy I mean. Bloke's probably scared stiff now that he can't cower behind his dad's name anymore. Still, don't suppose the Malfoy's would accept a little fag like him, would they?"

"Ronald!" Hermione shrieked angrily "Don't call him that, it's such a horrible word!"

"But it's what he is! Besides, it's weird…two blokes and all that" Ron shifted uncomfortably, then cracked a stupid grin "I'd watch myself if I were you mate, Malfoy's always been obsessed with you hasn't he?"

Harry felt himself turn red, but fortunately Ron didn't notice, as Hermione had just whacked him over the head, ranting on about living in modern times, and how close minded Ron was. Harry muttered something mundane about needing to work on his transfiguration theory and left Ron to be verbally berated by his furious girlfriend.

* * *

Draco jumped when he felt someone tap his shoulder, spinning round to find Potter – Harry? – grinning awkwardly at him.

"Mind if I join you?" he asked, and Draco simply nodded, a small thrill running through him when Harry's – Potter's? – hand brushed his own as the Gryffindor sat down in the seat next to him. Draco knew he was acting like a first year Hufflepuff, but really, he couldn't find it in himself to care. He didn't even have to look to know that there were plenty of spare seats in the library, and yet Harry – Potter? Oh who cared! – had chosen to sit with him. Trying to hold back the smile that was threatening to spread across his face, Draco went back to his studies, although he knew he would most likely end up being totally distracted by the gorgeous golden boy, but again, he found he didn't mind. They sat in silence for a good twenty minutes, the seconds ticking by to the beat of Draco's heart, every moment filled with a slightly awkward tension which set Draco on edge. He soon realized that for the past five minutes, he had been reading the same paragraph over and over again, and yet had taken nothing in, and he sighed, running a hand through his hair, trying to force himself to focus on the text in front of him. Next to him, Harry yawned, stretching his arms above his head, causing his school shirt to ride up, revealing a tight, tanned stomach, toned from years of Quidditch practise. Draco knew he was staring, but really, he didn't care.

"You going to Hogsmede this weekend then?" Harry asked, breaking Draco out of his trance. It took his lust-dazed mind a few moments to register what Harry was asking him, and finally, he shook his head.

"No, I've got to study." he muttered, knowing the excuse sounded lame. Harry laughed, shaking his head

"All you ever do is study! Come on Draco, take a break, come down to Hogsmede with me."

"With _you_?" Draco's eyes widened in both shock and happiness, but Harry didn't seem to realize this, mistaking Draco's surprise for reluctance.

"Well I just meant, you know, if you wanted. I'm going down with Ron and Hermione and just…if you wanted to tag along…they're not that talkative since their lips seemed to have become glued together…you don't have to but I thought you might like a break and it'd be nice to have someone to talk to. I mean, if you wanted" Harry knew he was rambling, that his palms were sweaty and that he hadn't been nervous like this since he'd asked Cho Chang to the Yule Ball…but that didn't mean anything…right?

"I'm not sure that your friends would want me there." Draco sighed, picking another book up from the pile that sat next to him.

"They won't mind…well, Hermione won't, and Ron usually just does as she says now so…" Harry grinned stupidly, and Draco was unable to resist returning the toothy smile, "– and, you know, if you got bored, you could always just leave, and I'd understand if you'd want to. leave, but – "

"Alright, if it'll shut you up, I'll go." Draco could hardly repress the smile that wanted to burst across his face.

"– I just thought it'd be a good idea for you to get out and – … what? _Really? _You sure?"

Draco laughed at Harry's confusion, shaking his head "Honestly Potter, do you want me to come or not?"

"Well, yeah I just…wasn't expecting you to agree I guess." that stupid grin reappeared on Harry's face, and Draco smiled, loving the gleam that appeared in the other boy's eyes whenever he beamed like that.

"Well, I think it would be best if I went back to my common room, rather than risk losing any more study time. I'll see you later Potter." Draco nodded, picking up his books and striding away from the boy wonder, unable to fight back a grin…he had a date with Harry Potter.

* * *

"Why did you have to invite him?" Ron muttered for the millionth time, glaring moodily at the floor as the trio made their way to the courtyard, ready to join all the other students waiting to go to Hogsmede.

"Just give the bloke a chance Ron, he's been through enough over the past few months, and he's really not that bad once you get to know him."

"But it's _Malfoy_! I don't want to get to know him!" Ron whined, and Hermione and Harry rolled their eyes,

"Just behave Ronald, be nice to him, and try not to call him names just because he's gay." Hermione sighed, twining her fingers with his. After an awkward exchange of hellos, the four began trudging down to the village, Hermione and Harry stood in the middle, trying to keep Ron and Draco as far from each other as possible. Harry was well aware of the eyes on them as they walked, the questioning whispers, and the glares Draco received, but he tried his best to ignore them, desperately trying to think up a conversation topic to break the tense silence. Glancing at Draco, Harry realized with a start just how close the boy was to him, as if he was almost afraid to lose Harry, like a child would act with his mother. Silver eyes gazed questioningly at him, and Harry realized that he had been staring at the blonde for a while.

"Sorry, there was a bee…'s gone" Harry muttered lamely. "Where do you want to go?"

"This little shopping trip was your idea Potter, as long as I get a Firewhiskey at the end of it all, I don't care where we go." Draco sighed, running a hand through his hair, looking worn out already. As the village came into sight Harry felt tension rise higher and higher, as did Hermione. Ron seemed on edge, and you could just _feel_ a stupid question forming on his lips. He opened his mouth to speak, but Hermione got there before him, cutting him off, saying

"Ron, you need to get Pig more owl pellets. I don't suppose you want to come to the owl shop do you Harry?" her eyes softened when she glanced at him, and Harry shook his head fiercely,

"No, you two go…we'll…we'll go to Flourish and Blotts and meet you later on"

Hermione nodded, and dragged Ron off quickly, before the redhead could get a word in.

"What's wrong with the owl shop?" Draco asked curiously, as the two boys began making their way towards the old book shop.

"My owl…Hedwig…she died, I don't think I ever really got over losing her." Harry said thickly, his throat burning slightly as he fought off tears. People thought it stupid to mourn for an owl for so long, but Hedwig had been so much more than just an owl, she had been a connection to the Wizarding world during those long summers at the Dursley's , a secret friend in whom he could confide in, but now, just like so many others, she was gone.

"Shame." Draco shrugged, and shoved the door open, stepping into the warm little shop. After Flourish and Blotts, they visited Quality Quidditch supplies, Slug and Jigger's apothecary, Scrivenshaft's Quill Shop, Honeydukes, Dervish and Bangs, and finally, ended up in the three broomsticks. Draco picked a quiet table near the back, with no chairs, but a long padded bench along it instead, and the two boys sat next to each other, slightly squashed, but comfy all the same.

"So Potter" Draco sighed, accepting his drink from the waitress with a small nod, "Why is it you brought me on your little shopping trip again?"

"Because, you've no idea how to have fun! You stayed cooped up by yourself all the time, and it's just no good for you" Harry smiled, enjoying the way Draco licked his lips oh-so-teasingly after taking a sip from his drink. "And I thought you'd like it"

"Your friends seemed to scurry off as soon as possible…can't really blame them though can I? Who'd want to hang around with the disgrace of Slytherin?" Draco gave a short, bitter bark of laughter, taking a long drink from his Firewhiskey.

"Will you stop talking about yourself like that? And slow down, that stuff'll go straight to your head!" Harry scolded, grabbing Draco's arm and lowering it. "Your fine Draco, Ron's just …well, he's a bit of a git sometimes, and Hermione didn't want anything to set off so she dragged him off to make sure he didn't start having a go at you."

"Oh lovely, now even Gryffindor's golden witch is trying to babysit me." Draco took another long gulp, his glass drained, and rolled his eyes. He signalled to the waitress for another, before looking back at Harry with slightly unsteady eyes. Firewhiskey was not for lightweights…it was very strong, and Harry himself could only ever manage a glass before the burning sensation got too much for him, and he became too dizzy to even walk straight.

"Draco, you're going to ruin yourself if you carry on acting like this. Your such a talented wizard, you've just been dealt a bad hand in life. Your father was a bastard to you, your mother was never there, you were always expected to be top of everything…you were put under all this stress, and I want to see you _relax_ from time to time! I know you find this hard to believe, but I don't enjoy seeing you suffer! I…I care about you Draco." Harry mumbled the last bit awkwardly, knowing that he was blushing.

Draco nodded slowly, gulping down his Firewhiskey, and Harry was amazed that the boy hadn't fallen off the bench yet, as he was on side closest to the open bit of the bench, and had no wall to lean back on like Harry did. He was eyeing the Gryffindor, a bright fire burning in his eyes as he surveyed him.

"Draco? Are you – "

Harry's final words were cut off, as Draco lunged forward, and pressed his lips against Harry's in a desperate, needy, yet passionate kiss. Harry froze, wondering if he could be dreaming…Draco's hands moved up to grip Harry's arms, the taste of Firewhiskey filling Harry's mouth as Draco pressed his lips harder against his own. Harry's mind was a haze of lust and fear. He wanted to kiss back, but he couldn't…could he?

"Harry." Draco whispered, almost moaning the other boy's name, his hips thrusting forward as he pressed himself against Harry, and, with his heart hammering at a million miles an hour, his head screaming at him to stop, but his body urging him on, Harry slowly began to kiss him back, his eyes beginning to slip shut, falling into a kiss he knew he shouldn't want, but he found it so impossible to resist those oh-so-luscious lips…

"**Harry!**"

It took Harry a moment to realize that someone other than Draco had said his name, and another moment to realize that his two friends were standing by the table. Hermione and Ron were staring at the pair incredulously, and Harry heard the door to the pub slam shut. Out of the window, he saw Ginny's fiery red hair disappearing into the crowd.

"Shit."

* * *

**Hope you lot all have a brilliant summer! You know what'll make mine? (Other than my lovely new mare Hermione of course) REVIEWS! You lot know what a review whore I am, and I don't plan on breaking the habbit (just don't tell mother!) Happy summer!  
**


	22. Chapter 22

**Yes yes...I'm not dead. I'm sorry for taking so long, but between writer's block, GCSE coursework, lack of time, pissed off computers and a naughty horse who wont do as she's told, I've just not updated. I have however, turned 15, gone to see MCR up in London, got a job and watched Harry Potter and the Deathy Hallows, and shall be watching it again soon :D. **

**Many thanks to my wonderful beta ItsAThinLine who's ironed out all my mistakes. And now little ones, enjoy!

* * *

**

If Harry never saw another N.E.W.T paper again, it would be too soon. The sound of hundreds of quills scratching at parchment echoed around him, and he was sure that he'd go mad if he couldn't leave soon. Sweeping his eyes across the hall, he looked to see how his friends were doing with their potions paper. Ron seemed to have given up, and was simply glaring at his paper, an angry, hate-filled stare which Harry had been on the receiving end of far too much lately. Across the hall, Hermione was scribbling away frantically, her hair a huge, frizzy mess from the stress of the exam. Nothing new there atleast. Harry smiled, knowing that she'd be getting every question right, and yet, he could already hear her whining about how she was sure she had flunked every question. Finally, his eyes alighted on Draco, sitting just a few rows away from Harry, he was at the end of his paper, frowning thoughtfully at the last question, a slight pink tinge growing in his cheeks, and Harry wondered what was making the usually cool, collected boy _blush_.

_If you add three heaped teaspoons of ground scarab beetle to a potion already containing cut up ginger root and armadillo bile, what result will you get? _

Draco scowled at the question. He knew that the answer was there, buried somewhere in his brain. Finally, making up his mind, he decided on a wit-sharpening potion. He paused, quill hovering over the page. Or was it the Draught of Peace? He could certainly use a dose of both right now. All around him, the endless noise of quills scratching away at test papers, the others around him stopping for no more than a moment, and that was only so as they could dip their quills into their inkwells. It was a sound he used to relish, but now it was just another distraction. Draco took a long, deep breath, shaking unwelcome thoughts from his mind and read over the question again, saying each word slowly in his head.

_If you kissed Harry Potter and then added three heaped teaspoons of angry weasel…_no, that wasn't it.

"_Focus Draco." _a part of his mind hissed, one that sounded remarkably like his father. Draco tried to push the thought of Potter out of his mind, and focused on the question on his N.E.W.T paper.

Wit-sharpening potion, definitely, he decided once more and scrawled the word, in his elegant calligraphy onto the parchment.  
"Quills down, your time is up" Slughorn called, voice echoing through the room. Draco sighed, laying his quill down and closing his test paper. The scrolls were collected with a flick of Slughorn's wand, and the hall was finally dismissed. Chatter filled the air immediately, the silence from of the exam shattered so suddenly, Draco had to ignore the childish urge to cover his ears. Slowly, he stood, too tired and fed up to worry about how he did during the test, his eyes scanning the great hall. Pansy was picking at her nail polish again, a terrible habit that she had been told off about time and time again by various people, including her father and Draco himself. A frizzy haired Granger rushed past her, looking close to tears, going over to where Harry stood, waiting for her. She began wailing to him, burying her head against his chest, and though Draco couldn't hear her exact words, he was sure that the little witch was complaining about how sure she was she had failed. Silly thing. Harry was smiling as he tried to comfort her, obviously telling her how well she'd done, and was trying very hard to calm her down. Well, at least Draco hadn't stopped Granger liking him. Weasley on the other hand, had not spoken to Harry since the incident in Hogsmede, and seemed to enjoy sending hexes Draco's way at every chance he got. Fortunately, Weasley was a terrible duellist, and so far, Draco had been able to deflect most of his spells. Green eyes suddenly locked with his, and a small, sympathetic smile was thrown his way. Harry hadn't spoken to Draco much since the Three Broomsticks Incident, as it was beginning to be known as, and Draco couldn't blame him. Returning a weak smile, Draco's eyes lingered on Harry for a moment longer, and then, he made his way out of the hall, going the long way round the desks, so as he wouldn't have to come in contact with The-Boy-Who-Lived. Draco still couldn't believe he had kissed the boy, or that he'd kissed back! Honestly, drunken, bitter and a complete disregard for correct social behaviour, and Harry had _still_ kissed him back…perhaps Harry had been drinking aswell and Draco just hadn't noticed.

"Merlin, what must he think of me?_" _Draco muttered to himself with a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He needed to speak to Harry about what had happened, sort things out before they all started going wrong. Again.

* * *

He wasn't going to do it. Or maybe he was…but he couldn't, surely! Harry scowled, rubbing his eyes with a sigh. With the stress of exams finally over, and nothing but a long, relaxing summer term left, Harry had been quite sure that he would finally be able to get a good night's sleep. That, of course, was before he dreamt about Draco on his knees, doing wicked things with his mouth to Harry, making the young wizard wake with a raging hard-on, and in quite a predicament. It wasn't the first…_odd _dream he'd had about Draco, but it was the first where he'd been left in this sort of situation. It was half past 2 in the morning, if he tried to have a cold shower now, he'd undoubtedly wake up his roommates, and he had no desire to explain himself to a sleep-deprived Ron, who was already pissed off at him for the whole incident at the Three Broomsticks. But he couldn't wank over Draco. That was just wrong on so many different levels. It was a _bloke_! A _**bloke!**_ Harry sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. He leant over the edge of his bed and groped around underneath for a minute before grabbing his wand and Accio'ing it, instead. Making sure his curtains were fully drawn, Harry lit his wand, and began flicking through the worn copy of "_Wild Witch_" which he had bought a while ago. Sure, he'd gotten hard from a dream about a bloke, but that was just his hormones kicking in, tired of being stifled all these years, thanks to the stress of the war. And now? Well, he reasoned, they were just confused. Plus, it couldn't help that Harry had been spending so much time with Draco. It was all just mixed up, that was all. Once Harry got a good look at some proper girls, he was sure his body would sort itself out. One of the spreads caught Harry's eye, and he watched as a busty blonde – who was wearing only a sinfully short skirt and tight fitting vest that barely covered anything – began dancing about the page, one of her hands creeping up under her skirt, the other pulling one of her vest straps down, and then, teasingly pulling at the garment, not quite moving it enough to reveal anything, but just teetering on the edge. There were some times when Harry really appreciated magic, and he was not ashamed to admit, that this was one of those times.

"You know, I really don't see the attraction" Seamus laughed, picking up Harry's copy of "_Wild Witch_" and thumbing through the first few pages "I mean, look at her!" He exclaimed, pointing at a rather familiar looking busty blonde. " What's the attraction of such huge breasts? Surely they'd just get in the way!"

Dean was laughing along with Seamus now, nodding his agreement, and Harry just grinned, shaking his head.

"Put it back Seamus, you may not see the attraction, but I do." Harry chuckled, pulling on a pair of slightly worn jeans, grateful that it was Saturday…he hadn't got much sleep last night, even after the striptease he'd been given.

"That's not what I heard." Seamus smiled slyly, and Dean's eyebrows shot up into his hairline.

"What's this? Harry, what you been up to?" Dean grinned, always desperate to be in on the latest gossip.

"Harry had himself a bit if fun with Malfoy wouldn't you know? I always said there was something more going on between those two than jus–"

"Shut up Seamus! It was nothing, just a kiss…a _drunken _kiss! It was a mistake." Harry could feel himself going pink, and suddenly, the room felt far too warm. Seamus held up his hands, his smile still in place.

"Sorry Harry, just saying what I heard, no offence meant." He glanced behind him at Dean, who looked shocked, but was also grinning from ear to ear.

"Well, we always knew Malfoy was gay, but I never thought he'd go for _Harry_! You should be flattered mate, the bloke may be a git, but he's got the looks of a God." Dean sighed, and Seamus nodded in agreement. Harry coughed and muttered about seeing the pair at breakfast, leaving before the two could talk anymore about him and Draco.

* * *

"Why can't you just _try _talking to him? Come on Ron, he's obviously upset about what happened."

"Oh yeah, looked real upset when his tongue was stuck down Malfoy's throat didn't he?" Ron snarled, stabbing at the food on his plate.

"If you're going to act like a two year old, then I just won't bother Ronald Bilius Weasley." Hermione huffed, getting up, but Ron tugged her back down with a sigh.

"Come on, don't act like that. It's just…he's been leading Ginny on for years now, didn't think to mention that he was a fa– …that he was gay did he?"

"You don't know that he's gay. You don't even know the circumstances under which that kiss took place, so before you start having a go at him again, you need to try and understand _why_ it happened." Hermione was trying her best to stay calm as she spoke, and not for the first time, she wondered how Ron could be so stupid. "Now, Harry's been spending a lot of time with Malfoy, helping him with…with everything that's happened recently. It's only natural that they should become close after dealing with such delicate issues together and Malfoy obviously feels terribly vulnerable right now. He probably needed someone like Harry to…well, for support I suppose. And Harry loves playing the hero, it's just who he is, so he was prepared to swoop in and save Draco when everything came crashing down around him. Not to mention that, when Harry killed Voldemort, he also freed Draco from being like his father, and you saw how he acted in 6th year, he never had it in him to be a Death Eater. In a way, perhaps Draco felt that he owed Harry for saving him from becoming a servant to Voldemort."

Ron chewed his eggs slowly, seemingly thinking over what Hermione had said. His eyes suddenly grew bright, and he swallowed the impossible amount of food in his mouth before leaning in close to Hermione.

"Or maybe…Malfoy's _cursed_ Harry into – Herms? Hermione where're you going?" Ron called after her, as Hermione stood and marched out of the hall, scowling.

* * *

Lucius's lip curled in disgust as he heard the sound of retching coming from the next room. Honestly, when he had drugged his wife into becoming the submissive little creature she should have always been, he hadn't realized she would want to be so annoyingly close to him all the time. She spent most of her time hovering around Lucius, sitting quietly by him whilst he worked, ready to leap into action whenever he snapped an order at her. And when she wasn't hovering, she was being sick. Lucius was sure she hadn't been so ill when pregnant with Draco. Then again, he had been rather pre-occupied with more important matters – the Dark Lord for one – when she had been pregnant the first time. Perhaps he'd need to have a healer check her over, Lucius wanted to be sure nothing went wrong with _this_ child.

* * *

Draco hummed happily as he watered the bonsai tree on his windowsill. His father had always hated his love of plants, even more so when he found out that Draco wasn't top of the class for Herbology. But Draco didn't care, he had his plants in his room now, and once the summer came, perhaps he could grow a proper garden around the cottage, rather than just dealing with the mess of weeds and hazardously cut grass that he had now. Perhaps he'd get a cat as well. Draco smiled at the thought of a little black kitten running around the cottage, or maybe it'd be a pretty silver tabby, with big round eyes, and a soft meow, and in the winter, it would curl up by the fire with him, and during the summer, they'd both stretch out and laze under the sun. Yes, Draco decided, he was definitely getting a cat. Perhaps he'd tell Grace about his latest decision. Seeing as how exams were all done with now, seventh years had the rest of the year to simply sort out their futures. Booking interviews, working out apprenticeships, preparing for any future exams they may need to take for healing or being an auror…Draco wasn't doing anything. He no idea what he was doing with his life now that it was all over, except that he'd be growing a garden, and getting a cat. In the back of his mind somewhere, a little voice wondered if Harry liked cats…

"Oh piss off Crookshanks!" Harry snapped, kicking at the ginger cat, who gave a small grumble of annoyance at being shoved off of the pile of clothes he had turned into a comfy snooze spot. Ginger hairs were now sprinkled all over Harry's clean washing. Harry gave a small sigh, he wasn't sure why Crookshanks was so obsessed with coming onto _his_ bed, in _his _room, messing up _his_ things…he was Hermione's cat for goodness sake! "Come on you, out." Harry pulled the creature up into his arms, and marched out of his dorm and out of the common room. He hoped to find Hermione out by the lake where she had been spending a lot of time recently, usually reading. Harry hoped he'd be able to talk the girl into putting some sort of spell on her cat so as it would stop entering his dorm.

"Stop…squirming…Crook–…ugh…Crookshanks!" Harry yelled as the cat managed to wriggle out of his grip, and went bounding along the corridor. Harry jogged after the animal, praying that it didn't go too far, he was sure that loosing Hermione's precious cat was something that would keep him in her good books. Turning the corner, he gave a sigh of relief when his eyes locked with round yellow globes which belonged to the fluffy ball of orange fur, and, Harry realized with a start, purring. He'd only ever heard the ill-tempered animal purr when Hermione was around, and even then it was usually only after spending hours petting and feeding him.

"Lose something Potter?" came a familiar voice, and Harry realized that he'd been so focused on Crookshanks, he hadn't even noticed that Draco was holding him. "You're a lovely boy aren't you? Too bad about your face…run head first into a tree did you?"

For a moment, Harry wondered why Draco was suddenly talking like this to him, and he was about to snap at the blonde, before he realized that Draco was in fact speaking to Crookshanks. Funny, Harry had never thought of Draco as a cat person.

"Right. Well, thanks Draco, just hand him over carefully, he's got quite a temper on him."

"See how he talks about you? Horrid thing isn't he?" Draco cooed, tickling the feline under his chin, increasing the volume of his purr so that it echoed round the empty corridor. Harry rolled his eyes, but couldn't help but smile as he watched Draco soften for something as stupid as a cat.

"Come on Draco, I need him back, Hermione's not going to like it if she finds out I've given her cat away to you."

Draco smirked, and turned on his heel, striding down the corridor, pausing at a large portrait of a white rabbit, whispering something to the picture, and then stepping back as the portrait swung open, much like the entrance to Gryffindor common room. Before stepping in, Draco glanced at Harry and called,

"We've things to discuss Potter. If you want the cat back, then come in. We can't simply ignore what happened." And with that, Draco disappeared into the room behind the picture. Harry hesitated for a moment, knowing exactly what Draco wanted to discuss, and not wanting to discuss it at all. But as the portrait began to swing shut, Harry made up his mind, and quickly jogged along the corridor, stepping through the portrait hole just as it shut.

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**Yep, that's right. I leave you for months and months...and then leave you on a cliffhanger. Ain't I a bitch? And what's more, I've even got the cheek to ask for reviews! *Oliver Twist voice* Please readers, can I have some more?**


	23. Chapter 23

***Peers out of cave* Oh hello! Yes I'm still alive, and of course, updating slowly but surely! It is just so lovely to read all the reviews left during my disappearance asking for updates, so thank you all for being so wonderfully kind and patient.  
And thank you of course to my Beta ItsAThinLine, who has helped me so much, sparking my imagination and helping me plan this chapter, and then fixing all my sloppy mistakes. Now, without further ado, enjoy:**

* * *

Healer Gayte watched sadly as Mrs. Malfoy sobbed, clutching her stomach, mournful howls filling the room. The woman was too old to carry a child, and why the Malfoys had attempted to have another child while they had a seventeen year old son was beyond the healer. Gayte also noticed that Lucius was no longer in the room, it seemed he left as soon as Gayte had arrive, and the healer supposed it was probably to give his wife some space.

"Now Mrs. Malfoy, I know that this may seem hard to accept, but your body is beyond the point of carrying children now. If you are so keen on having another little one about the place, might I suggest adoption?" Gayte tried in a calm, comforting voice, but the blonde shook her head furiously.

"L-Lucius…he'd never…not one that wasn't ours! N-n-never!" the woman sobbed into her hands, shaking violently.

"Alright, I understand. Well Mrs. Malfoy, perhaps the best thing for you to do right now is to get some rest, and then, when you're feeling up to it, have your son home for a few days. I'm sure the school won't mind you bringing him home for a weekend. And I'm quite sure your boy will be happy for the break, he's probably growing tired of spending all of his time studying."

* * *

Draco moaned low, thrusting his hips against Harry's, teeth and tongues clashing in a sharp, desperate kiss. He wasn't quite sure how they'd ended up like this, rolling about on the floor of his living quarters, moaning, growling and gasping as they slowly discovered each others bodies, but truly, he didn't care how it came to be, he was simply over the moon it was happening. He was quite sure they'd be arguing right before it had happened, Harry snapping something about how their kiss in Hogsmede had been completely wrong, and Draco had snarled back that he hadn't noticed Harry complaining at the time. Then Harry had gone very quiet, and nervous, looking anywhere but at Draco. The blonde had felt his stomach twist, and he hated himself for upsetting Harry like that. With a gentle touch, he had tilted Harry's head back to face him, and leaned in very slowly towards him, muttering softly, "I'm sorry" before pressing a soft kiss to the Gryffindor's lips.

Needless to say, Harry had responded with great interest, and somehow, through a mess of emotions, they had ended up here, snogging each other senseless on the floor whilst Crookshanks made himself comfortable on the now abandoned sofa.

Harry suddenly made a loud keening noise as Draco nipped at his neck, and the Slytherin felt a thrill run through his at the knowledge that _he_ had made Harry make that noise. He did it again and again, relishing in the mewls of pleasure Harry made, the way the boy arched up into Draco's touch, eyes shut in pleasure, his ebony hair falling into his face. He was so _beautiful_ like this.

Suddenly, Draco cried out in shock, a heavy weight falling onto his back, and he twisted his neck to try and see what had hit him. Crookshanks stood purring on his back, curious about the two boys. The feline slowly walked up the length of Draco's body, stopping at his shoulders and reaching his paw out, batting at Harry's face. The boys both laughed breathlessly, the heat of the moment snatched away by the curious cat. Draco nudged the animal off him, and rolled off of Harry, sitting up slowly, Harry doing the same. Neither knew what to say. Crookshanks, as if realizing this, yowled noisily, and nudged Draco's hand until the young man began stroking him, running long, delicate fingers through the mass of orange fur.

"He doesn't usually take to people like that y'know." Harry tried lamely, and Draco gave him a weak smile for his efforts at breaking the sudden tension.

"I always wanted a cat when I was younger. But they weren't…_respectful_ was the word my father used I think. Yes, it must have been that, because he used _ridiculous_ when I asked for a cruppy…mad old man. Still, I can get one now. Not one like this of course, as friendly and clever as he may be, his face is just such a wreck…and the fur's so _orange_, he's like a Weasley. Perhaps black…or white? No, black. Maybe a kitten would be better, and I'm sure Aaricia would like one…" Draco was rambling on and on about his feline thoughts, and Harry supposed it must've been because he – like Harry – did not want to have to deal with the heavy silence that would come if he stopped talking. "– or even a stray, perhaps I'll get a stray, something that really needs a home. I could – "

Crookshanks yowled again, and Draco seemed to suddenly realize the rubbish that was tumbling out of his mouth, all his stray thoughts littering the conversation, and he fought hard not to blush at how stupid he must seem. The room was silent once again, until Harry, very quietly said,

"You should get a stray."

The afternoon spent in Draco's quarters was not unpleasant, but it was not easy. There were often long pauses, which, when they became too much, were filled with pointless cat talk. Eventually cat talk led back to Lucius not letting Draco have pets, which led to the discussion of childhood. Harry discovered that Draco had been left by himself a lot as a child, expected to entertain himself all day, every day, his only breaks being lessons, or social events he was expected to attend. His childhood had been filled with one sided games of chess, single player quidditch matches, and games of hide and seek where no-one ever tried to find him. And with each story of broken past that tumbled from Draco's lips, Harry began to understand more and more why Draco had grown up to be the boy that had tormented Harry through his school career. At times, he even felt himself opening to Draco more, telling him snatches of his childhood memories, though they seemed nothing in comparison to Draco's horror stories. Somehow or another, the two ended up on the sofa together, Draco leaning back against Harry, looking tired, but happy.

"If my father could only see me now" Draco muttered, as Harry brushed a stray lock of hair away from his stormy eyes "he'd probably go mad. Tell me that he didn't care who you were, he won't have the Malfoy name associated with any gay pa– "  
"I'm not gay." Harry interjected suddenly, stiffening at the word and Draco smiled.  
"No…neither am I. What we were doing before, that was just what all perfectly straight men do isn't it?" he grinned  
"Well no…but I'm not usually…it's just you. Not that I…what I meant is – I've always liked girls, I'm straight… you're just… just – " Harry stuttered, suddenly completely unsure of himself.

"An exception?" Draco laughed, and Harry gave a weak smile.  
"Yeah…an exception." He nodded, and Draco chuckled, leaning up to place a chaste kiss on the boy's lips.

"Well, for now, I'd appreciate it if you didn't tell anyone about your…_exception_." Draco smiled softly, peppering light kisses over Harry's face. "I've enough to sort out right now without every witch in the school chasing me down for stealing you away."

Harry laughed, shaking his head at Draco's words,

"Alright, I suppose I'll just have to keep you as my own dirty little secret for now then" Mimicking Draco's actions, Harry began covering the blonde with fairy kisses, a warm feeling of utter happiness unfurling through his chest like butterbeer.

They continued to talk through the afternoon, and when they finally fell quiet after a seemingly non-stop flow of conversation – interrupted only by spontaneous kisses – it seemed as though nothing else needed to be said. To Harry at least. Draco on the other hand, seemed to feel that their afternoon talk would not be complete without the words; "Aren't we just the perfect picture of childhood fuck-ups?" followed by a loud bark of laughter.

Ron watched from behind a pillar as Harry and Malfoy climbed out from behind a portrait of a large white rabbit, Crookshanks in the arms of the blonde, both boys looking blissfully content. Malfoy said something, causing Harry to grin and blush bright pink, and as Harry leaned forward to take the cat from Malfoy's arms, the Slytherin laid a light kiss on his lips, causing Harry to blush, yet he responding by deepening the kiss. They lingered on eachothers lips for a few moments, before finally breaking away, both smiling, and Crookshanks – the traitor – purring loudly enough for Ron to hear, despite being at the other end of the corridor. Red faced, Ron turned and marched away from the scene, feeling utterly betrayed, his fists clenched so tightly his hands were white, and a dark look in his eye. He couldn't accept that his best friend – or rather, _ex_-best friend – had broken his sister's heart for Draco bloody Malfoy. Where had Malfoy been during all those long summers that Harry had needed an escape from the Dursely's? Where had Malfoy been during their struggles through the dangers each school year seemed to present them with? Where had the Slytherin prince been when they had spent nearly a year on the run hunting horcruxes? And where had the slimy ferret been when they'd been battling in this very castle, their friends and family dying around them?

And the famous Boy-Who-Lived hadn't even had the guts to tell anyone about him and ferret face. The coward was too scared it seemed. Grinding his teeth, Ron made his way towards Gryffindor tower, intent on letting everyone know Harry Potters dirty little secret.

Harry, after seventeen years of mutterings following him down every corridor, had learnt to ignore the blatant pointing, staring and whispering. So when he entered the Gryffindor common room, he of course did not register the fact that so many eyes were suddenly fixed on him or the fact that the buzz of conversation increased all around him. He spotted Ron sitting in the corner, and waved at the redhead, making his way over and dropping into the chair next to his best friend.  
"Alright mate?" he grinned. There was a moment of sudden silence in the common room as everyone turned to stare at the pair, and the heaviness of it, along with the tension crackling in the air, sent a shiver through Harry. Then, Ron punched him and he wasn't so worried about the tension anymore.

* * *

**6/6/11 edit, my beta pointed out I left one of her comments in the text, whoops! All fixed now ;)**


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